


Dark his heart

by BlueRam



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Naruto
Genre: Comfort/Angst, M/M, Mpreg, Romance, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-10 15:23:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7850302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueRam/pseuds/BlueRam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Have you ever seen a pendulum swing? It goes back and forth no matter which side you push or pull, it's a given. It is the same with our fate, they say no matter how you push or pull...it will be the same. That is... until something so fierce and sudden knocks your pendulum right off course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Naruto.**

**The excerpts taken from the book Harry Potter belongs solely to the author of that series and is no work of mine** _**. (Quote from Harry Potter: Order of the Phoenix page 35. Made by the character Hermione, Quote from Harry Potter: The Goblet of Fire. Made by Dumbledore.)** _

**Warning: The first chapter of this story contains sexual content, reader discretion is advised. This story is also Yaoi (male/male), and contains Male Pregnancy (Mpreg)**

* * *

_It was a whore house…there wasn't much else that could be said about it, not really. Men from far and wide flocked to this cocoon of sin, willing to wrap themselves up in the twisted embrace of women and their whiles. Willing to bury their faces in exposed bosoms and dip their hands between parted thighs. Gasps would sound, a sensual moan and a subtle grind upon turgid length as the beat sounds on, and the brothel fills with smoke and lust. Here in this heaven…no one cared, why would they? Their wives were none the wiser, and even if they were, it wasn't their place to protest. If they spilt their seed in to many young girls, who would be there to protest? These women, these beings…they could protect themselves, their breath stained with herbs that would ensure no accidents…no mistakes. Yes…this was a whore house…but it was so much more than that._

_I stand here hidden between thinly woven doors, paper thin that our shadows would spell our secret, would reveal our lust. You're not gentle, far from it…I gasp as you bend me over, push me against this cold wall, my thighs parted and my too thin kimono pooled around my waist. I gasp as you push against me, my legs tremble and your breath hot against my neck. My heart skips a beat, your roughened hands shackles around my waist as the supple swell of my ass push against your heated skin. The sound…it's obscene, a wet smack of skin against skin that echoes for every breath I take, for every lick of my tongue against too soft lips. It's not enough, I can tell. Your thrust are harsh, they are fast and I clench around you…I hold on for dear life, my chest exposed and my nipples perked as the too cold wind sneaks a touch upon my skin. It burns, and I can hardly breathe, my thigh lifted in your strong arm as you push deeper, as you seek more from me, your teeth buried in the soft skin of my neck._

_You're not gentle…_

_No…_

_Not really._

_I don't know how it happened, but somehow I was above you, straddling your thighs. Secured away in some shady room offered by the giggling women and knowing men. Here I sought control, I wouldn't be that submissive lay that would allow you to rip away my clothes, ravage me where anyone could see as your fingers bite into my skin. You fought against my hold, your dark eyes glaring into mine. In truth I wasn't strong enough to keep you pinned, keep you under my control. A notion you proved as you ripped your hands from mine and circled my waist…my bruised waist. I arched into you as you sought to take all that I was, all that I am. I shudder above you, your skin too hot, mine slicked with sweat as my hair plasters itself against my neck, and your eyes…your eyes in a moment flared red. I didn't have time to think, couldn't think. My hips stutter and my breath stopped, lights and fire beyond the darkness of my sight. You don't make a sound but a harsh curse from thin lips, and then…then you were truly inside me. It stung, felt hot, even a touch uncomfortable…but for some reason, for some reason I liked it._

_The touch of a complete stranger._

_A stranger with thick raven hair, chaotic even more so than my own, a man with a muscled build so different than the men that strut around this simple village as if they were kings. Skin so pale…scowl so fierce, he was an unfriendly man I wagered. The way he consumed me and owned me in a careless moment…he was passionate, but he was…he was a killer. This man between my thighs, this man that takes my body and ravages it. This man without mercy was angry. It was rage that boiled within his blood…and I, I am his release._

_He reaches up, almost hesitant, his calloused hands against the soft skin of my cheek, for a moment there is clarity as his eyes flash from that strange burning crimson to black once more. He kisses my lips, almost as if he cherished me, almost kind, before he's consuming me once more. The kiss once gentle is possessive and harsh, and his arms tighten around my naked waist as his heated length pulse within me. I'm pulled against a muscled chest, held like a prisoner trying to escape, his racing heart loud against my ear. I'm still burning…forever burning. I've just given myself to a killer, my 'innocence' stained with his seed, his touch seared into my skin and his breath hot against my throat. I've given myself to a killer, whose eyes bleed red…an Uchiha, whose rage seeks no end. All for the whim of two sweet sake upon blood red lips, upon his thin lips. A comfort sought to escape our reality, his rage and your pain in the depths of a whore house that neither of you belonged._

_When the night grew silent and the reckless men return to their sweet submissive wives, when the candle light flickers and a wolf howls in the distance, I detach myself from your poisonous embrace. I waste no time as I try to gather what little was left of my dignity, the mist of liquor clear from my mind as your seed runs down my thigh. You shift, your hands searching for the warmth that I have robbed you of. I pay that no heed, I'm through the door with the torn fabric of my thin kimono bundled in my arms, a throbbing pain in my lower back as I pushed past a brothel maid. Her skin laid bare for all to feast upon, her gaze burning with jealousy, for what…I don't know._

_Were you someone important…Uchiha with eyes of blood?_

_I'm outside the gates before I know it, and for a stupid moment I hesitate…I look back._

_You're standing there, red eyes fierce, a menacing glow in the dead of night almost as if you stare into my soul. Your stare is consuming, it pulls me in…bewitches me as much as the shadow of the killer flickers beyond their depths. For a moment I can't look away, I don't want to look away…but it's a stupid notion. I don't know you, I hope you don't know me…that we'll never cross paths again. The moment is gone when that woman embraces you from behind, her hands trail down your defined chest and dip beyond your loose hakama. I turn and leave as I ought to, a strange feeling settling in my chest and a gentle hand upon the flat planes of my stomach. The gravity of my mistake is just setting in, and if you knew about me…about what I was, what I could do…_

_If you knew that by consuming my body in that one simple moment, the blood moon high in the sky…_

_If you knew that our mistake could possibly…_

_I hope…_

_For my sake…_

_That I…_

* * *

He didn't move…

Didn't dare make a sound as the cold wind tore into his skin and ice cold pin pricks fell from the sky, one drop after another.

A mighty pause for each descent.

Around him healers ran helplessly, bloodied water sloshing against worn wooden buckets, the hastened footsteps of many echoing in his ear only to fade in the distance. His clan hovered anxiously, accusations in their coal black eyes. Harsh whispers and hesitant glances, a new determination marked by the growing darkness in their eyes. They thought he didn't know…didn't see the betrayal in their eyes.

Soon…

Soon the clan would be ravished by deceit and treachery, and yet…

He didn't move…

Months on end of endless battle, fresh blood spilt, the heavy scent of iron clawing at the back of his throat and staining the very air that he breathes. Izuna screamed in pain beyond the shogi doors, the sound tearing at what little heart he had left, grasping at the elusive straws that was his soul, pitched in ever consuming darkness. It had been like that for hours, torturous screams, the taint of raging chakra heavy in the air and frantic healers who not only feared for the life of the clan leader's' brother…but also their own should they fail to keep him alive. Madara clenched his fist tight as that ever familiar rage bubbled beneath the surface, his blood boiling furiously under his skin. He could almost feel the rising heat and smell the scent of fresh spilt blood against his blade. Freshly spilt blood of that damn Senju dog that would dare cut down his brother!

Tobirama! That man deserved to watch his entire clan slaughtered before his eyes! Men, women, children… he didn't care! Once he would feel the pain that he felt tenfold, he would see his will as just!

He would…

He sounded like a monster…that thought wasn't helped by the annoying accusation of his once friend Hashirama.

His conscience, what little he had, loved to play tricks it seemed.

"Madara-sama …" the healer sounded hesitant, not willful with a back of steal like an Uchiha should be. His father had ruled with fear, instilled it in his clansmen's heart to the bitter end, and he…he had done nothing to change that.

"We…we did everything that we could…he, Izuna-sama…he won't survive the winter to come." Silence enveloped the two, Madara still sat gaze trained in the distance ahead, an expanse of forest and hilly mountains. Even with the light drizzle of rain the scene was beautiful. A light cover of rising mist and whistling winds, if only for a moment he could fool himself that his carefully constructed world was not falling apart.

"Madara-sama?" there was a nervous twitch of fabric, the curious stares of his clansmen that strove to act casual, sharpening their blades and partaking in empty chatter. They were battered and bruised, fed up with this uphill battle that could so easily end if he would just…

They wanted to see him waver, wanted reason to justify their betrayal…

If there was one thing he hated, it was a traitor.

"Leave us." The healer, Miyaki if he wasn't mistaken, flinched. His voice was frigid and lacked any life. Lacked the emotion that would prove that he cared for his brother's wellbeing, and just like that the disapproval of his clansmen deepened.

He brushed past the healer without a glance, the woman sputtering, her wish to stop her clan leader strong but her will weak.

"M…Madara-sama!" she stumbled after the man, stumbling as said man stopped abruptly, hand firm on the closed shoji doors.

"Go rest Miyaki…you've done all you could," Madara muttered, his voice even when low a gravelly baritone that would have charmed anyone. Being who he was though…it only brought fear. Miyaki's coal eyes widened in surprise, her heart skipping a painful beat before she meekly bowed and shuffled away, the burning gaze of the awaiting clansmen upon her tired frame.

* * *

"You don't have to mope around like some kicked puppy you know. It was going to happen one way or another." Izuna's smile was painful, his heavily bandaged arm carding gently through Madara's thick hair where he rested against his bed. It was strange seeing his brother like this, beaten down and wary, tired lines under his eyes deeper than ever and bruised. He gave a painful cough that burned his lungs, his breath lost for a moment and his vision spotted with oddly colored dots.

Madara peaked up from where he had buried his head in his arms, a heavy sigh upon his thin lips as he watched Izuna's hand fall from his head listlessly.

"My only regret is that the damn Senju dog will be responsible for my demise!" the hatred was clear in the younger's voice. It shook and was weak from his injury that still bled, but the hatred was very much clear. Madara hesitated for a moment, Izuna, his precious brother was the only one he would ever waver before. The only one he would lay himself bare before…not even Hashirama who claimed to be his once dearest friend could claim such trust.

Izuna stared into those dark pools, dread present as realization set in.

"No!" Izuna shouted furiously, his fight to sit up pulling at the many stitches in his side that did him no good. The white sheets tangled around his feet and his loose hair whipped around his face flushed with anger.

"Izuna! Just listen for a…!"

"I said no Madara! How could you sit here and ever contemplate giving in to _his_ demands?!"

Madara reached out desperately for his fuming brother, but his efforts were in vain as his hand was slapped away harshly, disgust plane upon his brother's face.

"How could you ever consider a truce after all the Senju has done?! After all that bastard has done to us…to me!" Izuna hissed, his grip on the white sheets tight as he stared at his brother's now emotionless visage. His chest heaved in exhaustion, sweat slicking his skin as silence enveloped the two. The gentle patter of rain against the window pane, and the flutter of the shoji doors from the curious wind should have painted a peaceful scene. Instead, in the wake of his outburst, his disgust at his brother's unvoiced thoughts…there was tense silence.

Madara clenched his hands tightly, willing his anger down before he opened his mouth. He had learned from his loss of control in the past. Flashes of long curly raven hair and bright green eyes a whisper in his mind. A sweet seduction he had never once truly experienced, someone who didn't know of him it seemed, for the lack of fear in jewel like eyes.

He had been burnt by lack of control…his precious older brother, soaked in blood and his mother's battered body stripped bare thrown upon him, a pile of death…endless despair. His father had not wept, his hand held firm, biting claws into his shoulder…they did not blame him, but he was the one who let the enemy too close.

Foolish child.

"If we accept the truce Hashirama has offered…" Madara began firmly, willing his brother to see reason. To not drown himself in the madness that was the curse of hatred of their gifted dojutsu.

Their cursed dojutsu he corrected to himself but was interrupted by Izuna.

"You call him Hashirama like he is your friend…Is he your friend Madara? Or is he your enemy that we swore upon our mother's grave we would see dead?" Izuna tone was cold, his face turned away from his brother that he loved desperately, but…but unwilling to see his picture of peace. Peace was a fool's gamble, all that mattered was the destruction of the Senju clan, and if he were not already dying…he would see his blade thrust deep into the heart of Tobirama Senju and his idiot of a brother. The idiot of a brother that sought to sink his claws in the wavering spirit of his own, whose heart wavered in light of his demise.

"Izuna…please. Please don't force me to watch you die… _please_." Madara sounded broken, his head held down as the curtain of chaotic hair obscured his face. If Izuna could see his eyes, he would see the pain, the fear. The deep seated anger for being backed into a corner with the whispers of betrayal tainting the air. The Uchiha clan wavered, and in light of that many will seek greener pastures, if not for themselves…for their families.

"Then look away Madara…look away," with that the conversation was over and silence reigned once more. Neither commented on Madara's clenched hands, how his nails pierced his skin and bled. No one commented how Izuna refused to look at his brother, his hatred for the Senju stronger than his willingness to see the bigger picture.

No one commented how both felt betrayed by the other.

* * *

"Harry-kun! Harry-kun!" the excited shout shocked the mingling crowd of people as they strolled, baskets under their arms and their money tucked in their purses. It was a market day, merchants traversing carefully from far to sell their wares. The word brave he would carefully use as these brave 'civilians' were under threat from attacks of the ninja that flooded their lands. One wrong move, or even being in the wrong place at the wrong time…or right time could spell your death. It made wares more expensive, the added risk, possibility of death…he couldn't blame them. The villagers though, the villagers did not agree, hackling for prices outrageously low, and some puffing out their chest in a form of intimidation.

Was it terrible of him to contemplate the image of a strutting chicken, plump and ready for the pot?

Hmmm chicken soup sounds good though.

"Harry-kun! Over here young one!" Harry smiled amused, green eyes glittering with fondness as he spotted the kind old lady that had all but adopted him. It had been two year since he had woken up stranded in this strange land. Two years since his memory began to fade and now he only had faces without names printed in his mind. Two years since…two years since the loss of his magic and in its place a strange aptitude for healing. She had found him, terrified without a strip of clothes on his back, shivering and bruised. It was if he had been in some fight…some battle.

She thought he had been a ninja, probably lost his way or got attacked by a rival, the theory though plausible, proved false for her…how could he be ninja if he couldn't even mold chakra. No he wasn't ninja, he was a wizard…though the concept of who a wizard was had slowly began to fade from his mind.

"Harry-kun, you're spacing out more than usual these days!" Chiyo, that was her name, lightly scolded as he stood before her stall, his own basket in hand. Her grey eyes lightened as she set her gaze upon him, zooming in on the bundle strapped to his chest in a sling of sort, a tiny hand poking out.

"Ahh you brought along the little one too!" Harry only nodded, carefully pulling away the sling to reveal a sleeping babe, a full head of raven hair that defied gravity. His face was round and skin pale, paler than his at any rate, his little mouth sucking on equally tiny fingers.

"Aiko couldn't make it today so I had to bring him along. You know how grumpy he gets when I'm not around." Harry said amused, his child had a very possessive streak, unwilling to let him go. The thought that brought joy for a moment slowly faded, possessive…like the man he had given himself to a year ago in his drunken stupor. It was a mistake, really it was…he had lost himself in sake at a whore house of all places, because he was feeling sorry for himself. He couldn't find his way back to…even where he came from had faded from his mind, but he could remember that he was torn up about it. He had raged and even cursed at poor Chiyo when she only wanted to help.

"Thinking about the father again?" Chiyo asked quietly, eyes flickering nervously less she be overheard by the nosey housewives who frequented these scenes. She peered at the resting babe again, many would be fooled by the little boys' appearance, thinking him the splitting image of his carrier. She knew differently though…that baby was Uchiha through and through. A clan whose territory they lived on by their grace, so long as they provided food and resources they could spare. She didn't know what would happen to her sweet Harry and his baby boy if the Uchiha knew about them…if the clan head knew about them. He wasn't known to be a friendly man, far from it. There was something entirely wrong about Uchiha Madara. Something terrifying, if he knew that their clans' fancy trick could possibly rest in the eyes of an illegitimate child…he might just kill them!

"No…what happened a year ago wasn't…it's not like he abandoned me or anything. Little Kaito and I are just fine on our own." Harry smiled, kissing his squirming baby to settle him, wide dark eyes squinting open before blinking in confusion.

Chiyo frowned in concern before packing fresh fruits and vegetables into Harry's basket.

"I still think it would be better if you left Harry dear…that child, someone will find out eventually I fear…" she began, her stance nervous as curious women and men stared at Harry and then to the bundle strapped close to him. They were all a nosey bunch, it was not every day you saw a carrier… they were mostly found in the north, closer to the Senju boarders than anything. If rumors were true, a few carriers actually married into the Senju clan even, and to see one here, on Uchiha territory was somewhat of an oddity. Especially one that carried some weird healing bloodline if the rumors of the brothel maidens and sick children were true.

After all, only this strange carrier would care for them.

"I have a responsibility Chiyo! If I leave who will care for Yaro and her children, and those two boys down the street… who'll feed them? Winter is almost here and…" Harry protested fiercely only to stop at his Kaito's cry of distress.

"At least your baby would be safe! Madara Uchiha… he's a bloody thirsty killer, not to mention the war outside our boarders!" Chiyo hissed packing the basket way past its capacity, fruits spilling over and making a mess of her stall.

"Chiyo …" Harry began softly, but Chiyo would not have it! Not today! The Uchiha and Senju were locked in a heated battle, men falling left right and center…civilians losing their lives in the crossfire! What would the clan head of a blood thirsty clan do if he knew some strange guy…carrier who are known for living more to the Senju side than here, had an Uchiha baby walking around? An Uchiha baby that could possibly do that weird eye trick they could do…holding a guarded clan gift in his little body!

"No Harry! They can take care of themselves! They have been doing it years before you came around, and will continue to do so after you leave!" Chiyo sighed as she caught wide green eyes, almost hesitant but the same bullheaded stubbornness bright for all to see. Kaito was looking around curiously, his thumb stuck in his mouth as large dark eyes took in the strange place his chichi-ue had brought him.

"Nya?" the child cooed, pulling at the lose curl that tickled his button nose.

"Look…Harry, you don't have to be some savior…they don't need one." Chiyo smiled sadly, handing the full basket to Harry's awaiting arms.

_This isn't a criticism, Harry! But you do…sort of…I mean—don't you think you've got a bit of a saving people thing?_

Harry frowned at the strange memory, it was a sweet voice really…someone who knew a lot, yet…

"I'll…I'll think about it. A storms coming at any rate…I won't be able to go anywhere anytime soon." Harry smiled, the light in his eyes a bit dim. It was a hard pill to swallow when your faults were laid bare…but Chiyo was right, he had to leave if only for his baby's sake. After all it was only a matter of time that people would realize, dark eyes were common…but the onyx depths, the slanted shape and thick lashes…they were unique to the Uchiha. Worse…if that man was in fact someone important to the clan as he feared, what would he do if he knew that he had gotten pregnant that one stupid night?

Chiyo smiled, an obvious weight lifted from her shoulders as she brushed the soft hair of the babe that she had seen as her own grandchild. Harry…the sweet soul she saw as her second son, the first having died in the crossfire between the damn Senju's and the Uchiha!

"I'll see you later Chiyo, say bye to grandma Kaito." Chiyo gasped at the declaration, her eyes alight with wonder, the little baby swiveling his head curiously before giving her a toothy smile.

"Ba-ba" he chirped, eyes squinting happily as he squirmed in his sling, bouncing so that Harry had to quickly secure him. Laughing lightly, Harry nodded to Chiyo before making his way down the market street, he had some herbs he had secure from the tea seller. He found the man had the best stock, and if a storm was coming judging by the taste in the air and the change of the wind…he would need to prepare salves and potions in case of injury.

Neither Chiyo nor Harry were aware of the curious eyes of a young woman, hair a mousy brown and supple curves wrapped in silk. She frowned at the retreating man…a unique beauty that didn't even seem to care about the sway he held. She wouldn't go as far as to say he was the most beautiful…many a women and young boys of the famous brothel outclassed him…

But there was something…something that was enough to incite raw lust in the head of the Uchiha clan. Something that had Madara Uchiha coming back a week after, in search of the elusive man that never showed his face at their brothel ever again. She was jealous, she could admit… the man had never once glanced her way…not even when she plastered herself against his heated skin and sang honey coated songs in his ear. No one ensnared Madara Uchiha…no one but that strange healer man. A strange healer man that grew heavy with child soon after Madara's departure and gave birth to a healthy baby boy.

It was interesting…to say the least.

* * *

Madara hissed as he narrowly dodged a kunai that grazed his forehead, blood spilling from the shallow cut, momentarily blinding him. He grunted in discomfort, blinking furiously while he kept up his momentum. The scenery blurred at his speed, his feet silent as he weaved through the tall grass of their chosen battle field. Visibility was poor, night had fallen and the ringing sounds of metal clashing against metal echoed loud in his ear. The attack wasn't expected, they were moving produce across the borders. Their blacksmiths needed good steel, special steel that could play the part of a conduit for chakra. Unfortunately, their mills had been destroyed by the Senju…the same for their crop fields and supply chain. They were systematically being destroyed, their numbers dwindling for every day they fought…for every man that fell. Hashirama might have been stupid, but he was no idiot…he knew what he was doing. He knew that if he kept them, kept _him_ on the defensive for a while longer, they would crack. The foundation of their clan was falling apart, visibly so as his men got sloppy, fought wildly, practically falling upon their enemy's blade.

It was swift when he cut down the man before him, the blade sliding through flesh with ease, a spray of blood splattered across his face in his wake. Yet he still moved, swerving around many a men, leaping as far as he could reach, twirling on the balls of his feet with the rush of blood pulsing in his ear. He didn't have time to be wary, to second guess his decisions…it was kill or be killed…there was no place for mercy. He could feel the strain, his vision wavering for a second as he stumbled, skin sweat slick and hot as he flipped backwards, another flip, another with the whoosh of wind accompanying every movement. He sees it from the corner of his eye, the glistening of sharp metal, a pointed tip. He didn't even think, his katana quickly blocked the downward swing, a quick interception that vibrated down his arm and pushed him back if only slightly.

"Madara you can stop this! We can stop this! Just say the word and we can stop this!" It was Hashirama. His eyes looked desperate, guilt was eating away at his soul he could tell. Madara said nothing, disengaging from the standoff, only to swing with force, his blade cutting through the air and slicing fine strands of hair as Hashirama flipped out of the way. Neither would give, blow after blow. A slip of his feet had Madara stumbling to the ground, narrowly escaping contorting wood that erupted around him.

So this was the game Hashirama would play, he would beat him down till he could go no further. He wouldn't kill him…no they were still friends in the stupid man's eyes. No he definitely wouldn't kill him, but he would bring him as close to the brink of death as he could. And in his defeat…he would force him to submit, force the Uchiha to fall to the Senju's will.

He snarled as he pushed forward, no regret as his blade tore through Hashirama's red armor and pierced through supple flesh. The man was too slow, or perhaps purposely slow, too sure that he would not aim to kill; it was only good reflexes that prevented the blade from tearing through his wildly beating heart. The man hissed in pain, no shock in his features as if he had expected it, hand clamping down at the bleeding wound.

"I won't stop! So long as I draw breath I won't stop till all Senju dogs are dead!" Madara hissed, his tone guttural and his blazing sharingan wild and mad like a rabid beast. This wasn't Madara Uchiha…this was the blood thirsty dragon that would forever lurk beyond crimson gaze…inherent madness with no hope for escape.

Hashirama frowned before lowering his red stained blade, blood seeping through his fingers even as he compressed the wound so close to his heart. There was no talking to Madara it seemed…he thought cruelly perhaps, that with Izuna on his deathbed the man would have given in easily. That if only to secure their aid in healing his brother, he would accept the truce and help him build the world _the_ y had envisioned.

"I see there's no talking to you…perhaps another time then." Hashirama's voice was low, almost inaudible over the whistling wind that pulled chaotically at their hair. The long tresses for both men waving furiously, almost blinding them as their men fought on around them.

"Farewell…dear friend, until we meet again," and with that Hashirama in a swift sunshin vanished as if he was never there, along with his battle worn men. Madara clenched his gloved fist tightly around his blade, his eyes once fierce fading to cold stone. His men stumbled among each other, their defeat was a bitter pill to swallow, for though the Senju had retreated…they had ultimately failed in the end.

"Madara-sama?" his third in command Inabi Uchiha questioned softly, his voice gruff as it always was. He was one of the few that…well Madara would not go as far as to say trust, he only truly trusted Izuna. But…Inabi was forever loyal through and through, he would never expect this man to turn from him, not that he would find it surprising if he did sometime soon.

"Madara-sama…our next move?" Madara did not answer, face turned to the dark sky, not a star in sight. An odd shape…a crow flapped its wing above, hovering over his head, it seemed word was sent from their stronghold.

"We'll retreat for now, what little of steel that has survived will be brought to the clan compound post haste." Madara muttered, sheathing his sword with a sharp scccc, almost like the hiss of a snake.

"Madara-sama…the men grow restless… if…" Inabi began softly, his voice was always soft…a man that never raised his voice no matter the situation. He didn't finish his statement, his hands clenched. The raven had landed on Madara's blood stained arm, a message tied to its thin foot.

"Inabi…you will lead the party back to camp in my stead…see to it that the injured are healed and our men fed." With that simple message, Madara walked off, the piece of paper crumpled in his hand.

"As Madara-sama commands"

_Heard you had a bit of trouble your way, for a price…I could offer you some help._

_Ever heard of our resident strange healer man from the north?_

_Your overdue a visit if I may be so bold…perhaps a night in my arms once more?_

* * *

Harry cursed as the strong winds blew open his windows, the wooden frame banging loudly against the wall, then proceeding to flap back and forth. With it rain poured into his humble abode, soaking the dirt padded floors lined with weathered tatami mats. They were due a change but, they were too expensive to replace. It was something that he couldn't afford to do with his only income being the sale of his potions and salves. It might have seemed stupid to others, but he didn't charge for healing the villagers with his gift…whatever his gift was. It…it just didn't seem right, and even if what was right or not right was the last thing he should think about having to care for a baby…he couldn't shake the feeling.

_Their daring nerve and chivalry set Gryffindors apart_

Harry frowned at the fading memory as he fought to close the rebelling window, his kimono soaked in the front and sticking uncomfortably to his chest. Gryffindor…he wondered what could that have been, but the thought quickly escaped his grasp as a loud caw pulled him from his muse. Slamming the windows shut and latching it, Harry's eyes widened in shock at the strange crow perched on his child's basinet. It's eyes were strange…almost tinted red, the color made him flinch, pictures of his naked body wrapped around a solid frame, of the burning thrust that left him limping for days.

"Shoo!" Harry tried to chase it away, Kaito giggling at his chichi-ue's antics, his little hands grabbing for the bird that came from kami knows where. The bird only tilted its head curiously before cawing in…indignation? He didn't know, but he wanted that bird away from his baby. It was the middle of the night for crying out loud! Where did it come from?

"I said shoo! Get out of here!" Harry scowled, only managing to frighten the bird, who flapped in fright, cawing loudly above his head before settling on the window ledge. Kaito beamed with joy, large black eyes set alight at his chichi-ue's expense. Huffing, Harry blew a stray curl out of his face before leaving the damn crow to it. If it wanted to stay on the window pane that was its problem.

"You find that funny huh?" Harry smiled, tweaking a round soft cheek, his baby going cross-eyed to watch his fingers.

"Ka…Ka!" Kaito cooed, little hands reaching up to be held. More and likely he would use the opportunity to latch on to his oversensitive nipples. The child was an opportunist if he'd ever seen one.

"Not Ka…Kaito, I know Chiyo is grooming you to call me kaa-chan, I'll let you know now I don't approve!" Harry mock scowled, nuzzling his child's cheek who only erupted in bubbling laughter. Kaito was a happy baby, nothing seemed to bother him…a curious one too. Just last week he had pulled off old man Kenzo's wig.

Now that…that was a sight.

"Ka!" Kaito giggled, eyes trained on the slightly parted folds of Harry's kimono. Sighing as if put upon, Harry relaxed in the squeaky rocking chair one of the brothel maidens had gifted him. The young girl was grateful that he would use such a 'precious' gift to heal her when she was only a woman hired for sex. Caressing the spiky curls of Kaito's little head, he parted the folds of his already open kimono and allowed the baby to latch on. It still felt odd, a babe suckling at his chest, tiny hands curled up in content. Rocking slightly Harry sighed, Kaito wasn't planned for…wasn't supposed to happen, but he loved him dearly. He knew if push came to shove he would give his life for this child. He wondered…would that man do the same? Would he protect their baby too? The point was moot though, he wasn't going to see that man again, and by weeks end he would make the journey east on old man Kenzo's merchant cart.

Harry spared a tired glance at the crow that watched him closely with its beady red tinted eyes.

He wondered…

Who did the strangely tame creature belong to?

* * *

Madara scowled as the pouring rain clung to his lashes, obscuring his sight as he silently trekked up the sloping hill and loose rocks falling away a dirt turned to mud. He stopped for a moment looking out at the scene below. This village was alight with flickering flames in every other window. A beautiful amber glow and casted shadows that flickered each time the thunder rumbled, and drunks crowing loud songs bumping into each other as they staggered down deserted walkways. He scowled in disgust at it, a false sense of peace! These people slept comfortable in their beds while his men fought endless battles, while his brother lay dying in his bed. He tsked at their comfort before continuing his trek, his leather boots caked in mud. He felt anxious, he could freely admit that…if what that woman said was true…Izuna might just live.

_He lives up there on that hill you know…no one goes up there though, he normally comes down to us._

_You know him…that night, he's the one you…_

_Never mind that though, he can heal your brother I'm sure, he's a kind person._

His heart was racing the closer he got to the top of that hill, the memory of soft tan skin, long curly hair and jewel green eyes vivid in his mind. That night he had lost control, he had gone to that brothel in a rage, another one of his brothers cut down, and him helpless to do anything about it. He was stupid! Drinking way past his limit, trapping that man against hard walls as he wrung sweet moans and breathy gasps from the equally intoxicated man. That memory, always had him conflicted. He loved the feel of the man around him, a tight vice that took his breath away, and a pleasure he had to work for and possess. He hated the entire encounter as well, it was proof of his weakness, proof that even the Great Madara Uchiha could fall to base desires as lust.

It disgusted him.

_He…I don't know if it's important, it probably doesn't even mean anything but…_

_When you…it's obvious you slept with him, n-not like I'm spreading your business or a-anything Madara-sama! But…he, he grew heavy with child months after and…_

_No one has ever seen him with anyone else…_

_I…I don't particularly like him but…Madara-sama? You wouldn't h-hurt him would you?_

Madara sneered at the veiled plea in the woman's statement. She had contacted him with information she knew would interest him. A bid to win his favor and be something more than a brothel maid he had made the mistake of sleeping with. She hadn't cared about the man's… _Harry's_ safety then, yet her conscience ate at her when the deed was done.

Harry…what a strange name.

This Harry…this Harry was a carrier, a carrier who gave birth to a baby boy nine months after their encounter. Coming upon the obviously well-loved home, a flicker of candle light that was extinguished from the blow of wind, his crow summon perched on the windowsill, there was only one thought on his mind.

If his suspicions were true and that child, that baby boy was his…then both mother and child would leave with him this very night. If the idea proved contrary to this _Harry's_ will, well…he would have to take the man and child by force.

He wasn't above the act if it was necessary.

* * *

"I say we do it now! Madara-sama isn't here, he can't control anything we do from wherever hovel he's hidden himself in!"

"Do what Kazami! You think those damn Senju bastards will just welcome us with open arms?!"

It was chaos, complete chaos. The clansmen had all gathered after yet another defeat by the Senju. They had enough damn it! Years upon years of nonstop battle with defeat more so than wins, their leader's brother cut down and dying alone, refusing to see anyone. Then there was their _oh so precious clan_ leader, a selfish man if they've ever seen one! He didn't have what it took to lead them to victory! He didn't even have what it would take to be a damn leader!

The man didn't have a heart! Didn't understand the concept of family like they did, watching day after day as more of their loved ones were killed for a now pointless war!

They didn't even know what they were fighting for anymore!

"Kazami is right Honda! This is our chance, Hashirama Senju has guaranteed our safety if we put down our weapons! If we fight for the Senju…!" he didn't even get to finish his statement, the embers of anger alight and raging like a furnace as another protested vehemently.

"Fight for the Senju and betray our brothers?! Betray our clan and all we stand for?!"

"You're raving mad if you think I would stand for something like this!"

Secured away in the underground caverns of their clan, the humidity so high one could hardly breathe and the orange flamed torches flickering on the walls adding to the heat…they were at an impasse. A majority of the clan, a majority of these battle worn men would stand by Madara-sama through thick and thin. They would fight by his side for a war they no longer understood, a war that took all that they were from them. Once proud men turned into child killers and land invaders. All for their pride, for their Uchiha will…it is all they had known, all they had been taught to believe…all that Madara-sama was raised to be. Yes, many would stand by Madara's side, but equal a many would sooner desert him and his will than see more of their blood spilt. These doubters, these weak willed men…these traitors with no pride, with no loyalty would desert the clan their ancestors had built if only for self-preservation!

How disgusting!

"If we don't act now, he'll bring us all down with him! Madara doesn't care about us, he doesn't care about this clan! He never did… wasn't it he who led the Senju right to our late Lady Nobuko!" one of the men spat out with rage, his faithful followers, for what else were they but sheep nodding in agreement with self-righteous conviction.

"The same Senju you insist we run to with our tails between our legs, as our clan leader seeks aid for his dear brother. The same clan leader you claim will never understand the concept of family." No one knew who said it, but the statement was bitter and filled with disgust. It was enough for silence to overtake the group, the soft and steady patter of rain above echoing in the caverns and the whisper of wind chilling. Many looked away in shame, even a touch of uncertainty, no one commented on how the small group of men in the corner remained silent. They were loyal…but loyal to who, Madara…or was it Izuna?

The silence was finally broken with a tired sigh that everyone felt, the weight heavier than ever before upon their shoulders as their reality set in.

"What say…what say the elders?" It was a question cast in doubt, unsure of the need for an answer in truth. Unsure if they wanted to see the nail that would be hammered into their quite literal coffins if this war did not end.

No one answered, their heads bowed and hands clenched.

"They are as they ever were. Silent…silent to the bitter end."

* * *

Chiyo hummed to herself happily as the rain danced on top of her roof and ran down her window. The storm wasn't here yet, far from it, but the constant rain and chilly winds was proof that it approached, and upon its wide spread wings, destruction could spell for them all. She silently packed up her now clean cups and bowls, her hands stripped from the soap she had used no moments ago, her eyes flickering to the dimming candle flame. She would have to light another one soon, she sighed tiredly before searching her cupboard for another stick,

It was too quick to even register but the fright was solid, her heart racing as a little wooden stag, beautifully carved it was, crashed to the floor. Its foot broke off and was sent scatting across her newly placed tatami mat, it's antler bent out of shape, the beady painted eyes glistening up at her. Harry…Harry was the one who gave that to her, and in fear she couldn't help but rush to her windows, flinging them open violently as her gaze settled on the lone house unto of the hill. She watched with growing dread, the single candle light in the wide windows diming and ultimately giving way to consuming darkness, a thin trail of white smoke in its wake.

She stumbled back, her hand held tight over her mouth, she didn't know why…but Harry, she felt her precious Harry and sweet Kaito…they were in danger.

"H-Harry, please…not Harry"

* * *

Harry flinched violently, his eyes shot open in the darkness, the sheets crumpled around his form on the single futon in the middle of the room. He didn't know what it was…the rumbling thunder, the pouring rain that threatened to tear his roof from its walls, or the streaks of lightning that left as soon as it came. Something…something made his heart race, made cold sweat slide down his temple into the tangle of his damp hair, and made the air so tense it was if he couldn't breathe.

A shuffle of cloth had him sitting up quickly, his hair tumbling down his back as he peered through the darkness.

What was...?

His heart seized, pain gripping him in its torturous hold as the lightning flashed once more…a tall figure standing over his child! Over his defenseless baby, a gloved hand stained with blood tracing a single finger down pale rounded cheeks. Harry swallowed desperately, the figure…the man, hadn't made a move. His chaotic hair still against his back, his armor smeared in grime and blood.

Fresh blood…

He opened his mouth, he had to say something! Anything…his baby, his baby could be…

"Children…it's not something I've ever considered you see. They're a nuisance, a weakness that no man can afford." Lightning flashed again, for a moment black eyes shun crimson red, the glow cast on the skin below sharp eyes. The man reached inside the bassinet, the sleeping babe pulled from his resting place against solid armor, Harry's tense form no concern of his. Not even when he could hear the slide of fine metal against soft cotton…the carrier was armed…good. He wasn't some damsel then, he could assess the situation, move when he had an opening…too bad he won't be given one.

"Yet…here we are. An illegitimate child, a strange man…no, a strange carrier from the north, and my clan's dojutsu possibly outside my careful control." The man's voice, it was deep as it was rough. There was no kindness, no anger, no shock…there wasn't anything, but the steel of a man that had killed countless, steel of a man who no longer truly showed emotions.

Green eyes did not for a second leave the man's arms, watching as his child snuffled in the hold of a stranger without a care in the world. In the arm of his father, who had come to…

"What do you want?!" the question was almost like a hiss, suppressed anger and fear clear for anyone to see, Harry's thin hand holding tight to the sharp dagger he always kept close to his thigh. Madara said nothing, his dark gaze trained on the obviously terrified man, it was marked by the tremble in his limbs, the deepened breaths and nervous flicker in his emerald gaze. The hold he had on the child tightened, a grip obviously uncomfortable as the babe whined in discomfort, little hands patting at unfamiliar armor.

Harry made to move, already half way off the futon with the blade in hand, when the words uttered from that cruel man froze him in place.

"Children…such fragile things, one slip…well we all know what happen to babes when they slip." His smile was cruel, a gloved finger held by Kaito who grasped at it, his large black eyes blinking open in confusion as he looked up at the stranger.

Harry clenched his teeth in anger, standing properly for the first time since this man invaded his home. His eyes flickered to the crow still on that window ledge, its eyes trained on the scene, a sense of apathy about it. So it was like that huh? He had let his guard down long before this man had come…no this man had been here long before now. Had watched him feed his child, put him to bed and ultimately fallen into a deep sleep himself.

"Again…what do you want?" Harry glared, if it were by looks alone, Madara would have been dead a hundred times over. If he were so inclined, the Uchiha would have been amused, as it were…he had business to get done, and this man would help him. Even if he would lower himself so far as to hold a baby his hostage…his so….

No…it was neither the time nor place to contemplate that issue.

Madara unconsciously traced the soft skin of the baby's fist with his thumb, the child chewing on the ends of his hair, eyes alight with wonder

"They say you're from the north…a _carrier_ from the north…" Madara began, eyes narrowed on the slight man before him. He could see the fire within him, the willingness to fight and protect all he held dear. A lion…or was it lioness in this case, protecting its cub from the enemy far too large to defeat. The child pulled at his hair, cooing softly but he paid him no heed. If he allowed something like innocence to distract him, a mere technicality at that…no he'd been long pass the stage that the mention of blood relation would mean anything to him. At least…blood relation that was not Izuna.

"I'm not from the north." Harry immediately denied, the Senju were from the north, the known enemy of the Uchiha. If he was in anyway connected to them, the fact alone could spell the death of Kaito no matter his Uchiha heritage…he didn't care about himself. There was confusion in his gaze as he watched Madara unconsciously interact with the child. At the start, he would have been convinced that this man would have no qualms about killing Kaito or himself.

He hadn't seem to care yet…

"Oh? And here they've told me you have no memory of your life before now." Madara smirked, stepping forward slightly, the crow fluttering nervously behind him.

"I-I'm not…just, just tell me what you want and leave us be, we're no threat…please." Harry whispered, cursing himself for wavering if only for second, his hands at his side as he desperately kept his child in sight. If he tried to attack what good would it do? This man was a seasoned fighter… and he himself didn't even know how to use chopsticks properly…he could in an attempt to get to Kaito, hurt him.

Madara frowned, he didn't much like that this Harry would just give in without a fight.

Where was the fire from before?

Where was the man that got past his guard even if he was intoxicated…the man that swept him away in base lust? Madara scowled to himself, looking down at the giggling babe, wide black eyes so much like his own.

No…exactly like his own…

"You have a healing ability, if rumors are true it may very well rival the Senju, whether you agree our not you'll return to my clan and heal my brother." That definitely wasn't a request, and if it was any other situation he would fight it.

As it was, he was at a terrible disadvantage.

"And if I refuse?" His voice was low, the blade strapped back to his thigh and frown on his face as he watch Madara bounce Kaito lightly in the air, the child erupting in excited giggles. He wasn't truly thinking of denying the man, but it was an honest question. What would the Uchiha…he didn't even know his name, but how far would this man go to get his way.

Madara smirked, not even bothering to face Harry as he studied the child's bright features curiously, said child waving his limbs about unaware of the possible danger that was his blood father.

"I doubt you're really in any position to deny me _Harry_ dear…but you're welcome to try. I do give you fair warning to think carefully about your next move…" Madara spared Harry a crimson glance, the tomoes spinning lazily in his eyes, his smile almost shark like.

"After all…I am the monster housewives whisper ever so carefully to their children in the dead of night"

Harry said nothing only glared at the obvious mockery in this man's eyes, and for just a moment he was disgusted with himself.

This was the man he had given himself to, this was the man he at let inside him.

And for what…

For a moment to escape the reality that he would never return to…he couldn't remember where or to who.

Yes…he was disgusted with himself, for being so weak then, and for being so weak now…after all, he would become the willing prisoner to this man if only to protect Kaito.

Protect his son…the only one he could claim to love.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry potter or Naruto**

* * *

The ongoing storm was soothing, too soothing he would even say. Sitting on his perch at the edge of the window, watching in a daze as grey clouds tumbled and twisted in a strange dance of nature. The sky bled grey, and wisps of white and black, almost like the bubbling crown of raging tides,…the heavy pour of rain numbing to the mind in that strange way it always did. Hashirama sighed before looking down at his steaming cup of tea, a thin tendril of white fluttering, before fading outside the window.

It had been like this for a while...his brooding.

It was odd many would say, the once jovial man reduced to deep brooding so far set apart from his usual persona. He knew that his brother worried, he worried greatly for his change of attitude…and his wife, or rather soon to be wife if the alliance with the Uzumaki proved true, was confused. But what could he say? What could he possibly tell them that wasn't new…that everyone didn't feel?

He was tired of this war, tired of needless bloodshed, tired of sending children barely six years old to fight their battles.

In the midst of this war, in the midst of his clans men tired sighs and downcast eyes…he felt selfish. He fought to protect his clan yes…but he also fought for that little boy on the edge of that beautiful cliff. The little boy who smiled at him, shared his dream of peace, shared the pain of losing a brother. That boy…that was his family and his hopes and dreams, his coal black eyes unreadable even then, his _cold_ black eyes tainted with hatred when he leveled his gaze.

He grieved for the possibilities in that sweet kiss, the red upon soft cheeks, now hard lines…if…maybe…

Maybe if they were not of different clans, they could have had a chance, they could have built a world of peace like they had always imagined. Maybe they could have been what he had always imagined…

It was a foolish thought though….they weren't from different clans, he would always be Senju, and Madara…Madara would always be Uchiha. Besides, he had changed, he had become unrecognizable as the years passed on the battle field, angrier, fiercer and merciless. He cut down women and children alike without a blink of an eye for the will of his clan. He had to say that, because he didn't want to believe that Madara would become the monster for any other purpose but his clan's will.

No…he couldn't believe that…

He wouldn't believe that…

Tobirama would call him an idiot, say he was blind…

His brother could never understand, and that…that was ok, he didn't need to understand, he just needed to stay by his side. He only had to hold on just a little bit longer, and see the world he could build…see the world he and Madara had once dreamed of, that he still dreamed of.

He sighed once more, the tea bitter against his lips, a bit too strong, lacking anything sweet. He would have loved it…did love it. Madara's taste were bizarre in that sense, he would like the things most would not...see the things most would not.

"There's a rumor going around," Tobirama's deep voice interrupted his muse, the man shuffling ever so slightly where he sat cross-legged behind him. Hashirama merely hummed, taking another sip of tea, the wind for a moment hissing so violently that his hair bellowed behind him, and his face was sprayed with cold rain. Tobirama scowled for a moment, his red eyes narrowed before he looked down at his folded lap.

"Izuna Uchiha is still alive, even if just barely. Brother…don't you think we've waited long enough?" Tobirama spoke softly, his hands clenched before slowly releasing, the wind howling in his ear.

"The fact that he hasn't reached out yet…he won't surrender, he won't seek your aid and when Izuna dies…"

"What…you think he'll be too consumed in grief to give a good fight; that he'll crumble like a tower without its foundation? You really don't know the Uchiha all that well Tobi, if you think that's all it will take to end this." Hashirama's expression was strange, a mixture of bitterness and anger…yet some form of admiration and…love? The expression was enough for Tobirama to scowl, his heart beating furiously from suppressed anger before he looked away in displeasure. Hashirama said nothing else, allowing the soothing sound of the clashing storm, the thrill of lightning to carry his thoughts away, the cup of tea now lukewarm in his hold.

"They say the Uchiha are cold hearted killers, that they could care less about their own and just live for the thrill of war and destruction. I believe…even you have fallen to the whispered tails of our elders." Hashirama's tone wasn't accusing, just stating the truth, at least the truth he knew.

"And it isn't truth?" there wasn't any anger in Tobirama's voice, neither was their truly interest for an answer, though the air was tenser than ever. His mind was made up long ago, seeing his brother cut down mercilessly at the age of four, his cousins slaughtered and their bodies hoisted like glorified trophies.

"H-He saved me." the small voice was sudden, and shocked them ever so slightly even if they did not show it. Hashirama turned to see his youngest brother standing unsurely at the door way, wringing his hand nervously as he flinched away from Tobirama's steady red gaze.

"I…Itama?" Hashirama was confused, and looking at Tobirama's face his brother didn't know what to make of the statement either.

Itama looked at his feet, biting the sift flesh of his lip nervously before he opened his mouth again.

"They say the Uchiha don't care…but that night, that night Madara Uchiha saved me." Both brothers paused in shock, Tobirama's eyes conflicted, riddled with denial at the tip of his tongue. They know what night Itama was talking about, the boy had been sent along with some scouts by their father to retrieve medicinal herbs across their border. Unfortunately the group was cornered by the Uchiha and slaughtered. Only Itama escaped with his life and a deep gash down the length of his back.

"No… that's not possible! You said it yourself that you were attacked…that…" Tobirama began fiercely but trailed off in the light of his little brother's broken gaze.

Itama looked over at a frowning Hashirama, his eyes tearing up at the overwhelming emotions. Itama was an emotional child, a trait their father disapproved of.

"Father said I should keep my mouth shut…that our clan didn't need to know. The attacks…they weren't the Uchiha! It wasn't even the Uchiha that k-killed Kawarma, it was the Hagarumo clan, and Father used the excuse to attack Lady Nobuko…"

"That's enough Itama!" Tobirama shouted, shocking the boy that he stepped back in fright.

"Brother! Let him talk, let him tell us what really happened that night!" Hashirama spoke furiously, glaring at his snow haired brother. The glare was enough for Tobirama to stand down and look away angrily, his fist clenched so tight that they bled.

"I-I was going to die that night, I-I, just wanted to join Kawarma! I was tired of the fighting, tired of the…I was just six years old!" Itama cried, rubbing furiously at his eyes, his shoulders shaking. He looked over at Tobirama, willing him to understand, willing him to just let go of his hatred for a moment and look at him.

He wouldn't even look at him.

"I-I I was cornered and they were going to kill me, they were taunting me about how they would do it, and what they would do with my body after. It was too fast to even register but blood was spraying everywhere…and he was standing over me." Itama's eyes flickered over to his eldest brother that looked at him with such encouragement…understanding and even veiled hope.

"Madara…he told me to run, that I should take the river down south and travel the cavern that would lead to my clan home…he knew where our old compound was and…" Itama hesitated, something dawning on him as he spoke.

"He said whatever I did, I wasn't supposed to stop our look back, that he would take care of my pursuers…Brother, if he knew about our location then…why didn't he tell his father?" the question was steeped in confusion. The room was still, a great contrast to the conditions outside, the open windows banging furiously against the walls, chips of wood falling in their wake.

"It could have been a trap." Tobirama muttered, he sounded conflicted, angered and in disbelief.

"Broth…" Itama reached out but stopped, his hand falling listlessly to his sides.

"It changes nothing! The Uchiha killed our clans men, _Uchiha Madara_ killed our father, slaughtered him!"

"And our father raped his mother in his need for revenge, and I killed his father and brother in return." Hashirama spoke softly, eyes trained on the now cold tea, ripples forming in response the rumble of thunder ahead.

Tobirama tsked before silently walking out the door, not a word uttered from his lips.

"I'm sorry" Itama muttered, his voice trembling as he wiped furiously at his eyes. He looked up at the gentle hand on his shoulder and Hashirama's sad smile.

"He'll come around, Tobirama is smart, smarter than any of us even…he just needs some time to…process." Hashirama squeezed his brother's shoulder lightly before retaking his seat at the window ledge.

"Are you still going forward with the plan…when Izuna dies will the Uchiha really turn on Madara and come here?" it was obvious that Itama was conflicted, it didn't seem right to use such a fragile moment to push Madara to the edge. To get him to lose focus in his rage and selfishly wish their annihilation. With such a determination, the Uchiha would flee to the Senju, abandoning their leader who would only care for revenge. In the end losing all his support…Madara would have to accept the truce, even if it would be a bitter pill to swallow.

"They say the Uchiha don't care…it's far from the truth. The thing is they care too much, feel too much, and when they lose what they hold dear, hold most precious…they are lost in the curse of hatred, a stain left to them from their blessed dojutsu." Hashirama finally reached out and closed the windows shut, the edges sealing together tight.

"It will be Madara's downfall, and in the end should I succeed to bleed the hatred from his heart, and release him from his curse…we will create the world of peace as we had always envisioned it." Hashirama whispered.

"And what if you don't succeed? What if he becomes too lost in his hatred?" Itama questioned softly, sitting behind his brother with his head bowed. Hashirama did not answer, and that was an answer in itself.

Many spoke of the Uchiha's curse of hatred and the Senju's will of fire…no one seemed to realize that neither was better than the other. Each pushed their bearers to the brink of morality in their own way, to achieve what _they_ thought was best.

And what the other thought was best…

In the end…

That was all that mattered.

* * *

Their footsteps though loud to him, was inaudible over the rustling of leaves, and the ominous hum of the forest that seemed strangely alive in the dead of night. The cold air burned at their noses and numbed their skin…Madara was used to this. Many a nights when he was young he would score the forest with his older and younger brothers. Training their father called it, said they had to get used to the environment, listen to what it had to say…and respond in return. In a sense, his father sounded like a tree hugging Senju…a thought he and his brother's kept to themselves, secretive grins hidden behind their father's back. His two older brothers were dead though, and the youngest along with them, and Izuna…Izuna was on his death bed. A few cold drops of water from the weeping trees landed in the neck of his armor and soaked his juban in the front, it was uncomfortable to say the least…but again not something he was unused to.

Harry stumbled beside him, his seta sandals unsuited for the muddy terrain, his eyes widening, but before he could trip a hand swiftly steadied him, the child squirming in his arms. Wide green eyes looked up at Madara who said nothing, his expression closed off as he walked ahead.

"You should be more careful, wouldn't want to hurt the child now would we." The statement was cold, a drop of water falling into his eyes and obscuring his vision. These weren't conditions to be traveling in, especially with a three month old baby that could so easily get sick. Harry sighed softly to himself, a motion caught by Madara who paid him an unreadable glance before continuing on ahead.

"He's your son you know…" Harry stated, pulling the thick woven blanket around Kaito that Chiyo had given to him tearfully, with Madara a menacing figure at his back.

"What will you do with us after I try to heal your brother?" Harry frowned, his long raven tresses plastered against the heated skin of his neck, and soaking through his thin kimono. The drizzle of rain was coming heavier and he could only do so much to shield his child. He almost tripped again when Madara suddenly stopped before him, a hand sprawled against the cold metal of the man's armor. He stepped back hesitantly, not knowing what to make of the turn of events, his baby held tight against his chest, whining in discomfort.

" _Try_ to heal my brother?" His voice was deep, a rumble that vibrated through him with its dark undertone. Harry swallowed before squaring his shoulders and hiding his fear, it would be so much different if Kaito wasn't…

But he was and that couldn't change right now.

"My decision hasn't changed, I will try to heal your brother, if only to secure my son's safety…but the key word is _try_." Harry glared as it finally began to rain again, the leaves above whispering in the strange way they did in a storm.

"I don't have…I don't know how to use chakra. How I heal is something completely different, that not even I understand. Your brother was injured by a ninja who uses chak-" Harry stopped abruptly as Madara reached out a gloved hand, holding Harry's delicate chin. Harry's heart skipped a painful beat, his breath held for the moment that blood crusted hand caressed his face, leaving a noticeable smear. Those piercing black eyes would not look away from his own emerald, Kaito whining pitifully.

"Has anyone ever told you how strange you are? Speaking back to a known killer with all the cards in his hands." Madara muttered, smirking when Harry none too gently pushed his hand away.

"You disgust me!" Harry hissed, forgetting himself for a moment before his eyes widen at his outburst, something Madara obviously found amusing by the slight upturn of his lip, before he seemingly came back to himself and was back to his cold disposition. Harry frowned again at the confusing man. His emotions, what little that he let shine through, didn't really correspond to the blood thirsty monster people said he was, more so Chiyo.

Then again, what did a blood thirsty monster look like?

"Come, we've wasted enough time." Madara muttered as he continued on, his boots leaving noticeable prints in the mud.

Harry said nothing, looking down at Kaito who blinked sleepily at him, a large yawn sounding from his small mouth. He flinched when a heavy material was draped over his head, cloaking both Kaito and himself. He looked up to see Madara staring at the child, gaze unreadable as he put away what he'd come to know as a sealing scroll. He guess the haori came from there, and judging from the smell of steel and…spices? The haori belonged to the man. Without a word he accepted the offering for what it was, and kept on following silently behind the Uchiha.

He probably should get to know his name…and probably find out his standing in the clan if he could afford to bring a complete stranger amongst their ranks.

"What is your name?" Harry asked softly, refusing to waver as he fell in step with the tall man.

The Uchiha looked at him from the corner if eyes, that infuriating smirk back in place.

"Madara Uchiha…one and only leader of the Uchiha clan." Harry stopped abruptly in place, eyes widening as he watched the man…Madara continue ahead as if what he said was nothing important. Kaito cooed, pulling a long strand of hair into his mouth, dark eyes staring into his chichi-ue's eyes.

"Ka?" Harry released a steady breath at the curious tilt of Kaito's head.

He was the willing prisoner of the father of his child…the father of his child who was Madara Uchiha, a man known to destroy armies with a swing of a sword and with the mercy of a devil.

* * *

"Saimei-Sama! They've taken Saimei-Sama!" Shouts rang loudly down the deserted halls, lit torches flickering in the wind only to extinguish, white smoke curling in the air until even that was gone. Thunderous footsteps echoed, many people were running, the heavy clashing of armor freezing the hearts of the servants that hid away in corners, frightfully searching for the enemy that none of them could see.

Lightning streaked across the sky, painting a horrific image of muted silver and fading grey, thunder rocking loose paintings that fell from their walls, glass shattering and scattering across wooden floors.

"She's gone! Saimei-sama is gone!"

"What about Sushun-Sama?! Is Sushun-sama-"

The frantic conversation faded in the background as large wooden doors with shimmering gold etchings groaned as they closed, a soft hiss when the doors were sealed. A man stood before wide windows, a bed further across the large room with sheer draping, a tiny body gasping hoarsely for breath.

The man was dressed in heavy robes, his hair done in a tightly held top knot, a single silver rod pushed through; a flicker of light off its smooth surface for every flash of lightning.

"So they've taken her…with this they hope to tie my hands behind my back, and then they do this to my son…" the man's voice was gruff, aged one would say…sounding a strange mixture of age and unquestionable power. Perhaps a tone of great wisdom ushered in by cold rage.

"Shiba-sama...?" a figure draped in heavy armor asked quietly, kneeled and head bowed with the end of a sword raised in the air where it was strapped to his side.

The man did not acknowledge the veiled question, eyes trained on the effects of a storm that was sweeping through their lands, and seemingly refused to give.

"But no…I'll wait. I'll watch like the ever patient sparrow on its unsteady limb, and when the time is right...?"

"Shiba-sama…your orders?" The kneeling man questioned carefully, unable to understand the seemingly pointless ramble of their leader.

"Get the healer Hanzo, my son has been attacked." The now identified Shiba-sama, ordered, his voice gravel as his ring clad fingers clenched ever so slowly.

* * *

Harry flinched awake from the slight touch, Kaito snuffling against his chest and the sound of settling wind loud in his ear. Rubbing the feel of dirt from his eyes, he looked over at Madara who gently stroked the fire he had lit himself after securing them away in a small cave among rocky cliffs. The cave connected artificially carved tunnels that ran for miles across the eastern section of the Uchiha lands, carefully hidden away from the Senju and enemies alike. Madara obviously didn't find him a threat, escorting him without a blindfold as if it was any everyday trip, then again if the tales of their weird power was true…a blindfold would have been the least of his problems.

He was brought out of his daze when a steaming clay cup was placed in front of him,

"Drink." It was the one word Madara muttered, seemingly uncaring as he pulled the black gloves from his hand to reveal thin bandages, frayed at the ends and unravelling to reveal severely bruised skin. Looking closely Harry could see the wear upon the man's armor, deep gashes that crusted over in blood across his neck, and the sluggish bleed of a wound through the broken gap at the side where his armor seemed fractured. It never occurred to him once that a war was still being fought, that despite the seemingly utopia of a life in his small village…their lands were falling apart at the seams.

Harry frowned, looking down at his steaming cup before sighing and taking a sip. The common folk called the shinobi monsters, call them evil and vile because they killed and slaughtered hundreds. Yet…they judged and knew nothing of the reasons behind these acts, didn't know if these seemingly heinous actions were done out of a bid for survival. After all, they could sit behind their safe rose tinted windows and judge. They didn't have to fight a war, and even though their people got caught in the crossfire…they had more a chance of survival than these men…these shinobi's.

In a sense he hated that he had fallen into that same mindset, judging and not knowing anything…like sheep.

_Harry…they don't know you, they only see what they want to see, and for them that's enough._

Harry scowled at the elusive memory, even more so when it filled him with unnecessary guilt that made no sense. He didn't need to feel guilt, the ninja...especially the Uchiha had brought nothing but chaos to their…

But that wasn't true was it?

Harry smiled as Kaito patted his cheek, his black eyes frowning at him. His son probably was telling him to stop over thinking things that in the long run wouldn't mean anything to them.

Wouldn't mean anything if they survived that is…

Feeling the heavy gaze on his form, Harry tried his hardest to ignore it, sipping the strangely bitter tea that stung his tongue.

Releasing a frustrated sigh Harry slammed the cup down none too gently,

"What?!" Harry shouted at his wits end, Kaito cheering for all the wrong reasons, excited by his chichi-ue's fraying temper.

Madara smirked, looking down at his hand as he pulled away the bandages,

"What, I can't stare at you now?" the tone was teasing, adding to the conundrum that was this man. How many faces did he wear? Only to just as quickly freeze over like any winter blizzard.

"No! Not particularly!" Harry glared, the fact that Madara seemed wholly unaffected by his anger even more infuriating. Madara simply scoffed as he prodded at the obvious bruised swelling and tear of the skin around his knuckles, a frown in place.

"Yet a year ago in the dead of night you had no problems wrapping your legs around me and moaning ever so loud for the whole brothel to hear"

Harry glared before looking away in a huff, his finger held tight in the grasp of Kaito who found it amusing to gnaw at the tip.

"A pity, it must have been unremarkable seeing I can't quite recall that particular event." Harry was just being petty now, he couldn't win seeing as nothing seemed to phase the man, so he insulted Madara's manhood. His thoughts were proven true when Madara simply hummed and pulled out fresh bandages from his scroll.

"Hmm… a pity."

The crackling of the fire was the only sound made after that, along with the shuffling of cloth being wrapped around Madara's knuckles. Caressing the soft cheek of the now sleepy baby, Harry sighed before making his decision then. Without a word he got up and kneeled before Madara, the child held out before the now still man. The Uchiha stared in the way he always did, his thoughts unreadable and face expressionless.

Harry looked at his folded knees, before holding out the squirming boy again.

"If you wrap your wound without treating it first it'll get infected…so hold him and…" Harry trailed off before sighing, tiredness clear in his disposition, before startling green eyes looked unwavering into black pools.

"So hold him and I'll treat your wounds for you…it's what I'm here for at any rate isn't it?"

None made a move after that declaration, the child squirming uncomfortably and swiveling his head about, not quite understanding why he was suspended in air.

Madara, he seemed to be searching for the words unsaid, or ulterior motives, Harry had never once showed an ounce of positive emotion when it concerned him. Why would he suddenly offer help?

Taking the child into his arm without word he extended his injured hand for Harry who tsked at the state, his fingers poking gently at the lifted skin. Madara noted at the back of his mind that Harry had moved across the cave to the bag he had carried, digging through as he muttered in irritation. Madara would have snorted at the strange man, but his attention was caught by the little child lazily blinking up at him with a mostly gummy smile. Tracing the little nose with his finger, the boy going crossed eyed before giggling, it really just occurred to him then.

He had fathered a child…this little baby, innocent… was _his_ …his blood. His throat felt tight at the thought, a feeling so foreign settling heavily on his chest. It's like he had said to Harry, having children was a concept set far from his mind. It wasn't for the reason he had expressed…weakness, though still very much truth. He just…he vowed he wouldn't ever bring a child into the life he lived. A life where he had to send children to their death to wage a battle that until this day had no end. Any child of his…simply for just being _his_ would suffer, if not by the hands of his own clan with the current climate…then by the Senju and the Uchiha's multiple enemies.

He wondered…was this how his father felt? This helpless hope, knowing that the child would grow up much too fast, face things that not even a warrior should face. Wanting to look on with pride at the continuation of his line and the proof of his love…but this child wasn't created from love was he. He was created from a night of mistakes and loss of control…lust; yet those strange feelings still settled on his chest. Madara flinched at the soft touch, Harry pulling his hand towards him as he poured water over the wound. It was tinted red as it splattered to the stone floor, drops soaking the black hakama he wore.

Poking at the now clean wound, Harry pulled out a salve he had created from fresh gotu kola, the herb proving to be very useful for wounds like the one he was treating. Silently he looked up at the man who didn't even realize how softly he was smiling at the little boy. He didn't look like the cold hearted man people said he was…not that he looked kind, but…

He looked like a father that gazed upon their newborn with veiled wonder and hope.

"His name is Kaito…"Harry said softly, wrapping the bandages carefully, his skin brushing against Madara's calloused palm. They painted a too intimate picture, like the stereotypical wife treating the wounds of her warrior husband who had returned from battle; the man gazing upon his son that would soon follow in his footsteps.

"He was born on a night like this, rain heavy and the winds beyond cold. I was in so much pain…the wonders of a carrier is that, on unique cycles of the moon we can conceive...it doesn't mean we have equipment to give birth." Harry nodded his head as he examined his work, fiddling with the bandages once more before regarding his child with such pure love and warmth.

"Everyone was convinced I should have terminated the pregnancy the moment I found out, after all the only known carriers were from the north…I wouldn't know what to expect or do." Madara frowned as he listened carefully, arms unconsciously tightening around the child who fell asleep against his armor, tiny hands grasping tightly at his hair.

"I refused…and suffered for it in the most part. It was a horrible experience, I got weak, I got sick, and I was the only one with any medical skill, and couldn't even treat myself because of my weakness. Then that night came, and we realized…someone would have to cut him out."

"I assume that woman…Chiyo was i-" Madara began but was cut off by Harry's laughter. He was taken aback, and maybe just a tad bit annoyed. This man didn't react like everyone else, he mouthed off, insulted him and even though he was obviously at a disadvantage, couldn't even muster proper fear.

"Of course not, I cut him out myself." The way it was said, it was obvious Harry taught Madara an idiot to think otherwise. The man though found it far from the truth, his look incredulous as he looked into amused emerald eyes. The moment calmed though with the crackling of the fire behind them, and the soft hum of wind lingering at the cave's entrance.

Harry carded his hand through the soft raven spikes of his son, before finally speaking low and a bit subdued.

"You didn't answer me earlier…what are you going to do with us after I attempt to heal your brother?"

Madara didn't answer, immediately looking down at the child…before gently placing his son in Harry's arms. Without a word he stood and pulled on his missing glove, Harry scrambling up as Madara picked up the bag that held the healing items and slung it over his shoulder. Shuffling dirt over the flame it was extinguished quickly, the bright red and yellow embers fluttering in the air, the cave was plunged into darkness, a brush of cold wind trailing goosebumps down Harry's skin.

"Mad-"

"It's not too far now, we've rested long enough." He was back to his closed of self, his feet silent as he made his way down a narrow passage. Harry frowned before tsking, hurrying his steps to catch up with him. It seemed that he would not get his answer, at least not until his duty was complete, and the clan head's brother alive and well.

* * *

Madara froze mid step, his thick hair fluttering around him as his heart beat in his ear. Harry paused in confusion, his sandals sticking to the clumped mud under his feet, making it hard to move. He peered around the still man, noting how tall and intimidating those gates were, even in the darkness it was clear how high they were hoisted, the flicker of movement on the top, not getting past Harry's notice.

Was that why they stopped?

"Mada-" Harry began but didn't even get to finish his question, the man was storming towards the gates; his rage so heavy in the air that Harry didn't dare say another word.

Not now.

What the hell set him off?

They were at his home weren't they?

Why the hell would he be so angry after bearing a calm countenance for most of their journey?

"Open the gates!" Madara all but growled, the gates swinging open with such force that it banged against the concreate walls, a shower of loose dirt falling to the ground. Harry didn't know what to think, hurrying behind the man that would not stop for anything or anyone. He could feel the suspicious glare of the Uchiha upon his back, a glimpse of red from the corner of his eye as he ran to just keep up.

What was going on damn it!

They stormed through the streets, Harry barely keeping his wits about him as he held on tight to Kaito, mud splattering against his legs for every sharp turn they took.

"Madara wait!" Harry shouted angrily, what had gotten into the damn Uchiha?! Madara didn't pay him no mind. They had found themselves storming through the doors of a large traditional house, their feet loud against wooden floors.

Harry was about to put a stop to this, stop the man before he ran them to their death, Kaito the poor baby jostled awake, tears forming at the corner of his eyes. Before he could even utter a word tortured screams pierced through his ear like a heated iron rod. It sounded again, hoarse and weary, cracking for every second that it sounded, the sound of frantic voices clearer to him as they approached sealed shoji doors. A group of men were gathered at the entrance, their faces grim, some clenching their hands tight as if it would block out the screams.

They looked up at their hasty approach, eyes widening before they gathered their wits and stood straight backed in front of their leader.

"Madara-sama!" The almost spoke in unison, their eyes flickering to his tired frame, Kaito beginning to wail loudly at the turn of events. Trying to hush the child and shield him from the too heavy gaze, Harry pulled Kaito closer to his chest, stroking the soft hair.

Madara didn't answer them, flinging the shogi doors open violently, the pained shouts rising in volume, Kaito screaming out his little heart in fright. Sighing in frustration Harry made to follow the man, but was blocked by the burly men that had gathered, their eyes distrustful.

"Really?!" Harry was annoyed now, Madara the stupid infuriating man had led them on a high speed chase with not so much of a word, he was soaked to the bone, tortured screams were hurting his ears, and Kaito was bawling for the whole world to know his displeasure.

Tsking, Harry pushed past the burly man angrily, the man reaching out to stop him but being stopped by another who looked on in part confusion but mostly concern.

"Let him pass, it's obvious he came with Madara-sama."

"But Inabi-" Harry didn't hear the rest of the conversation, his eyes trained on the chaotic sight before him. Blood…Blood was everywhere, the sheets were soaked with it, the scent of iron and sickness clawing at his throat as the heat in the room increased. Healers moved around the patient frantically, his mouth wide open in a voiceless scream, his body arched and pulled taut. Harry froze…what was this?

What the hell was this?!

"What the hell are you doing?! He's in pain-"Madara raged, the healers flinching at his anger, sweat running down their temples and soaking their backs, their hands trembling as a soft green glow erupted under their palms.

Harry watched in horror as blood gushed, spurting bright red…multiple arteries are cut he noted unconsciously, the flesh black and patchy as if it was rotting. It spread across Izuna's torso, trailing higher for every push of chakra in his body.

"Stop." His voice was almost a whisper, the shouting, the screams the baby's wails….too much chaos as he tried to get his wits about him. The room was spinning, faces blurring and voices sounding like the roar of turbulent winds that twisted and pulled at the unsuspecting victim.

"I said stop!" Harry shouted, the room shocked still at the outburst, only the wails of Kaito, and pained gasps from Izuna who's teary eyed looked into his own, holding his gaze for a moment before he was swept away in a wave of pain.

Madara opened his mouth as if to say something, but shut it just as quickly in displeasure as Harry pinned him in place with fierce glare.

"Take him." Harry's voice had a serous edge, the Uchiha clan's men and healers watching in shock and anxiety as this slight man demanded their leader…the Uchiha god to take his child.

"How dare-" Madara began fiercely, his lips pulled in a snarl as he stepped forward, the threat he presented clear for all to see. Harry though, he wasn't moved, in place of an ordinary man was a healer ready to save his patient at all cost no matter the obstacle in his way.

"Take your son and leave Madara! I have no use for you here, you'll only be a hindrance!" Harry all but hissed, his emerald eyes blazing hell fire. He was ready to fight to get his way, he would not allow Madara's irrationality to interfere with the one job that could spell his child's survival. His son… _their_ son that he was entrusting in this raving beasts arms, how much of a hold did Izuna Uchiha have on his brother for him to act so foolishly?

"M-Madara-sama the elders…they wish an audience." Whoever said it hovered hesitantly outside, obviously not knowing what to make of this situation…what to make of this strange man that would dear speak to their leader in such a way.

The air was tense, they were at a standstill, black eyes clashing with emerald green, a wailing child held between them. And wasn't that a shock…the man had said the baby was Madara's son.

How could that even be possible….when and how?!

It didn't make any sense! This whole situation didn't make any sense!

"Take him and go Madara, let me do what you brought me here to do. If you stay, you'll only get in my way." Harry's was unwavering in his stance, though his previous harshness melted away in light of the true worry and conflict he saw in Madara's eyes. Again he wondered…how strong was the younger brother's hold over the elder?

Madara said nothing as he took the wailing child into his arms, fading into the background as Harry rushed towards Izuna, barking out orders as he tied his hair to the top of his head and made quick work at cleaning his hands. The healers held on to every word, forgetting about their leader who watched with narrowed eyes and a grim set face, the child been gently rocked to soft whimpers.

"M-Madara- sama…the elders…" It was a young boy Madara finally noted, one of the many he had sent out to war on the broken wings of his clan's survival. Not even realizing his actions he gently soothed his son, carding his hand through the thick raven hair as Kaito borrowed against his father's neck. For some reason the baby's wide black eyes seemed accusing, looking out at the group of Uchiha men, enough for them to flinch from the look, the child finally hiding his face.

"Very well." Madara muttered the anger and loss of control bleeding from his deep voice and becoming entirely cold.

As he left the room, he could see his clansmen's gaze trained upon Harry, conflicted in their observation, but holding so much hope. More hope than they had ever dared to feel in their losing battle against the Senju.

"The sharpest blade you have! I need it sterilized if we hope to stop the sprea-" Harry's voice became muffled as he left the room, his men not even paying much attention to his departure, their anxiety high.

* * *

Madara was stoic, his mouth set in a grim line as he thought about his actions earlier, how he acted the fool in light of his brother's pain! He was weak! Did he even have what it took to be a clan leader…if not for his power and right of inheritance…he might not have been the leader to begin with! He didn't have the loyalty of his clan…it was strained and veiled with fear at best. And the elders…

He didn't even know what to expect. He was brought out of his self-pitying muse as Kaito whined softly where he was rested on a whine red pillow before his father. His brows were knitted together in discomfort, his eyes though closed tear stained, his little hand curled up to his chest. It looked like he was going to cry again, little hands reaching up for…possibly skin contact. He had after being kicked out by Harry, made his way to his quarters to at least rid himself of the blood stains that smeared his person. Kaito had cried at each instance he had to put him down, clinging to him when he finally took him up once again.

Almost as if he knew he was on his thoughts, Kaito began to cry, wide black eyes watery as they opened and looked at the man that was his father. Madara snorted to himself as he picked up the baby slowly, the child clinging to him as soon as he tucked him under his chin. The light weight of his son felt warm and soothing, a trace of soft lavender lingering from his journey mostly held against Harry's chest. It was strangely soothing, a moment of peace…as if there was nothing else left in this world.

"You're as demanding as your mother…do you know that?" Madara whispered, a strange parody of a reluctant smile crossing his face as he thought about the feisty man. That was the fire he remembered, that was the man he had taken none too gently, had fought for the upper hand and ultimately concurred that night. The same man that took over a chaotic moment, ordered him about and kicked him out of his own property as if he wasn't here at _his_ biding.

"The prodigal son returns." Madara glared at the raspy voice that shook with age behind him, the room he occupied empty of anything but the flickering red candles that cast a red glow about them. He said nothing, carefully blanking his face as he tucked the squirming Kaito closer to his neck, his hair obscuring the child partially.

Two elderly men, their backs hunched and their limbs meek, slowly walked passed the cross-legged clan leader, their grey kimonos fluttering around their equally grey hakama.

"We must admit…we grew concerned when our clan's men returned with tales of your departure right after they had been attacked. And now we hear of you returning with an unknown, and a child…" the elderly man trailed off as he and his companion stood before Madara, a strange smile on his wrinkled face, eyes trained on the snuffling child in such a way that Madara's eyes narrowed in clear warning.

"And a child many now claim to be your son, a child whose mother is a carrier, a kind known to only arise in the north. The north that belongs to the Senju our sworn enemies."

"He's not from the north." Madara denied coolly, gaze steady on these two men who had lived to see many Uchiha leaders rise and fall just as fast. They had lived long, longer than any ninja whose life expectancy was thirty the most…thirty if you were lucky, many falling to their deaths long before their twenties. Aoi and Dai, the legendary twin dragons of the Uchiha clan, that fought as much battle as any in their lifetime, and retired to a life of council to the ear of a rising clan head when they sacrificed their sight and chakra for the Uchiha survival.

"Oh? He's not…and here there are whispers already of the Senju you have brought amongst our ranks so carelessly." Dai smiled amused, giving his twin brother an unreadable glance before focusing on both man and child.

"Harry is not Senju! He's here on my behest… to heal my brother, who has proven a worthy warrior and will be of much more worth-"

"You speak of worth to our clan so passionately…almost as if you care…" Aoi spoke airily, his voice soft and yet taunting in the same breath.

Madara fought down his anger, this was not time for reckless emotions…he was being tested. And wasn't that just something, he had lost himself so much that he would be payed a visit by respected legends to judge his worth. He, who brought the clan from the brink of destruction after his father's death! _He_ who kept them alive-

"Your arrogance betray you young child. It is not a trait most respected in a clan leader." Dai sighed, groaning as he moved to sit before Madara, his brother following his lead.

Kaito snuffled, seemingly sighing before squirming in discomfort, an action that caught the attention of the old men yet again.

With a frown Aoi reached out as if to touch the child, but stopped short, amused at the fierce glare he received for the attempt, Dai chuckling beside him.

"You've formed an attachment to the child, an illegitimate-"

"He's my son! He is my one and only heir!" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, eyes daring any of these two men to defy him. It was a stupid move, he shouldn't be growing close to snot nosed brats with pushy feisty mothers even if…

"You acknowledge him then, and what about your clans concerns? The mother if rumors are true, has some kind of healing ability. If our enemies get a hold of him or if he willingly…"

Madara didn't let them finish, standing abruptly his back turned to them.

"Harry won't be a problem…if that is all?" His voice was low and pass his level of patience for the night.

"Our clan is on the brink of destruction and your focus wavers…what is more important? Your brother's will…or the survival of the Uchiha?" It was Dai who questioned gruffly, Aoi with his milky white eyes waving at the baby who peeked curiously from the curtain of Madara's hair. Madara didn't even answer, he left as silently as he had come, a squirming child on his shoulders.

The two elders only smiled to themselves, hands folded in their laps.

"A blessing perhaps?"

"The boy needs focus, too many Uchiha have fallen to the curse of hatred."

"And those that rebel?"

"They'll be taken care of soon enough, after all the storm has risen in the capitol."

"Shouldn't we have-"

"No! As a leader he'll guide us through his own will. The Uchiha will fall with him or rise with him…that has always been the way"

"Then in our silence we watch dear brother."

"No…in our silence we wait."

* * *

Harry couldn't even spare a moment of gratitude as a young healer kindly dabbed at the sweat at his brows, the short hairs at his neck sticking uncomfortably and making the skin tight. The smell of hot steel cutting into firm flesh, the blackened skin being pulled away was sickening, a substance like black slime staining his fingers as he dropped the flesh in a bucket put beside him. The healers had looked on in horror initially, when he revealed he would cut away pounds of the blackened flesh, a move that would cripple and deform their clan leader's brother. Cripple and deform…had he not been gifted a strange aptitude for healing with an energy…the name fading from his mind like all his memories before his two year stay in this strange land.

Izuna…it seemed whoever had cut him down did not wish to chance the man's survival. A strange poison ran rampant in his body, turning his chakra against him, at the same time inhibiting the ability for his blood to clot. Izuna had long since passed out, the pain flesh being carved out while he was conscious going way pass his threshold.

Harry tsked as he cut away even more blackened flesh, some of it necrotic tissue and parts a strange in-between state of alive and dead. The Senju really wanted Izuna dead, or wanted Madara to give in and acquire the antidote for whatever poison this was.

"H-Harry-sama, will you heal him now?" a healer asked, she was a soft spoken woman, timid even…a strange disposition for a healer if Harry thought…or maybe it was he that was the strange one.

The Uchiha healers had given him the reigns, realizing that not only did their chakra advance Izuna's condition…they hadn't a clue on how to proceed. The clans men that lingered watched with veiled respect as Harry silently worked, nodding to each other in some secret conversation that Harry didn't even notice. He didn't even notice the reference of a higher status added to his name.

Harry sighed, rolling his shoulders and placing the blade in the hot water beside him.

"Harry-sa-" someone began hesitantly only to stop as Harry abruptly stood, moving towards the hot water with crushed herbs that would sufficiently clean the gunk from his hands before he proceed to the last step. Miyaki, a woman he had come to realize was very skilled but lacked the drive and confidence looked at the horrific scene before them. She could almost see Izuna's bone… that was how deep Harry had cut.

Getting rid of the corrupted flesh and muscle Harry had being muttering to himself, as if reciting a memory he had experienced many times over. She flinched as he swiftly walked pass her, sitting beside Izuna with his now clean hands clasped and his eyes closed.

"Ha-" Miyaki began confused, the clan's men equally confused as Harry didn't move for minutes on end. They almost jumped in fright when Harry's eyes flew open a mixture of ruby red and gold swirling around his bright green iris. He placed his open palms over the wound a soft amber glow erupting beneath them, the carved flesh and muscle knitting together before them.

"How?"

"It's like the Senju!"

"No! It's nothing like that!"

Whispers, frightened and awed erupted around Harry especially when strange symbol slowly appeared on every inch of his skin, like overlapping clan markings or seals. Harry collapsed forward, his chest heaving his gasps loud.

"Harry-sama!" it was more than one voice, almost like the whole room and those outside had shouted it. A cold cloth pressed to his forehead, Harry blinked up to see the worried visage of Miyaki, then the men who coughed uncomfortably, as if to hide their reaction.

Harry sighed before sitting up, his body wavering for a second before he stood shakily.

"It's done for now… would someone so kindly point me to your leader?" Even his voice was tired, black spots in his sight for a second before it was cleared. Inabi stepped forward, Madara having sent him to keep watch of the carrier, protect him if he must. It wasn't needed though, even if mistrust was still there, the Uchiha was more focused on the fact that Izuna could possibly survive.

"I'll take you to him."

* * *

Harry stared at the scene before him, conflicted his tired mind could conjure up. This was Madara's quarters, said man looked asleep, sitting up with a hand under his chin and the other held in Kaito's strong grip. The baby was wide awake, eyes teary as they landed on his chichi-ue. Sighing, he moved towards the pair, sitting on the edge of the soft bed, the sheets shifting in place.

"I fed him, he didn't particularly like it but..." Madara almost whispered, not looking up from his son.

"Your brothe-" Harry began only to sway dizzily, Madara steadying him quickly. Harry froze at the touch, looking into dark eyes before he pulled away.

"You'll tell me in the morning, for now…rest." Madara tsked with a scowl, getting up swiftly and leaving the room, the expression on his face strange.

For some reason…Harry felt he should be wary of that expression... and whatever it might bring.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Naruto**

* * *

_Madara sat cross-legged, head bowed, his hair barely brushed his shoulders as his body trembled. Here…he was all but fourteen years old, already a prodigy in the eyes of his father and ever waiting clan. He was powerful, but many still found him weak…he felt too much they said, he had no control they whispered._

_He doesn't have good judgment they hissed, eyes accusing…murderous as they looked on in scorn, blaming him for the events that transpired that one still night, the moon high in the sky._

" _Don't look so down Madara-kun…it wasn't your fault, it could never be your fault." A weakened voice trembled, it was sweet and held so much warmth. A gentle touch to the sounds of a lonely flute that echoed through the woman's room at the rise of morning. The gentle rush of the wind among dancing red maple trees should have brought peace, one burnt red leaf floating inside to land lifeless at Madara's side._

_The soothing song though... only brought despair and self-loathing._

" _If it wasn't for me…If I hadn't…" He sounded so young, so lost…as if the very weight of the world was on his shoulders…and in a sense it was._

_The woman slowly sat up, her body aching, tired bags under her eyes as her silky black hair fell over her thin shoulders in disarray. She was a broken beauty, marred by stress lines, gaunt from eating too little, her skin grey and worn, and her onyx black eyes almost lifeless if not for that one small spark._

" _They took her away you know…my baby girl, she was barely outside my womb before she was ripped from me, her wails tearing at my heart and I…I too weak to do a thing." Her smile was stained with bitter sadness, a vile taste upon her tongue, her heart heavy._

" _I should have been happy…that I didn't have to see her, but…" A single tear spilled down her pale cheeks before she looked at the bowed head of her son. Her regretful son that did not deserve the blame for the tragedy her life had come to be. It was times of war, had always been…it was expected that the enemy would do everything in their growing anger to destroy them. She was naïve to think, that she…the clan head's wife would have ever been safe, would have ever been exempt from the reality that these ninja faced._

_On a still night, the moon bearing bitter witness she faced the darkness, stripped of her dignity, her legs forced apart and her enemy tearing through her. She bled, she screamed, she fought…she was too weak. Without a word he had left her there, body exposed to the wilds, barely alive with the spill of bitter seed down her thighs. They found her like that, disgraced, shamed…her husband would not even look at her. The Senju had found their traveling route, he had found her, his one and only target. Without mercy, he bid her play her part of his revenge, Tajima's shame._

_As if the wound couldn't be dug any deeper…she swelled with child months after, no herb she could take… lest it spell her death._

_It would have been better if she had been dead. Then suddenly the words her mother had whispered to her in the dead of night, herself just a young girl, bright eyed and innocent, echoed in her ear._

_A clan head's wife never wavers, she didn't have to love her husband but for her children she must bear the weight of world. Forsake her freedom and fold to his biding even if it pained her…she would heal. The husband will think himself the king, will tear through the world with blood on his hands and his mind forever tormented by his acts. He will act alone, but he's not truly…_

_It is the clan's head wife who truly rules, who paves the way for her children…it is she who will see past the clan head's cruelty, see past his mask. It is then she draws strength, all for the will of her children…and perhaps then and only then love will bloom._

" _Madara-kun…a clan head does not have the privilege of a simple life. The will of the clan is always put before his own…no matter the consequences to himself. A clan head cannot be selfish, cannot be weak…cannot waver in the choices he has made." The woman was Lady Nabuko, the only wife of Tajima Uchiha and the mother of the defeated boy Madara Uchiha, who struggled under unfounded shame._

_The clan upon realizing Madara had let a Senju child live, the son of that cursed clan's leader and in return, act that may have revealed their location. They scorned him, blamed him for their Lady's state…the child who will never do right. A disappointment for the skill he claimed to possess…too soft a heart, unlike his elder brother and the shining star that was Izuna his younger brother._

_Lady Nabuko gently reached over to her son, tilting his head up before wiping the tears that spilled from his eyes…innocent, despite the life he lived and would continue to live. She smiled softly before kissing his forehead as gentle as any loving mother, tears spilling free once more._

" _You are a gentle soul Madara-kun, you see no use for this war, but is trapped by the ambition of your father and brothers alike. They are swept away in hatred, and though your own heart has become tainted…you still yearn for peace."_

" _Kaa-chan...I…" Madara was open in that moment, every fear, and every pain, all the dread and loss of hope clear for his precious mother to see. She saw his dream and did not mock him for it, did not judge…did not scoff in disgust._

" _A time will come when you must decide. Will you act for the will of the clan as you see fit? Or will you chase the song of revenge and hatred to conquer in your father and brother's stead…and perhaps lose yourself in madness along the way."_

" _And when you have made your decision… who is it that will stand by your side. Whose loyalty will be unwavering…willing or unwilling?"_

"Your brother…he will survive for a time yet, but the poison whatever it is…It cannot be bled out. It's circulates like a parasite in his blood, and until he is given an antidote…he will return to the state that we found him." Madara was brought out of his muse by Harry's grave voice. He was in his study, scrolls upon scrolls open, strewn before him, ink staining his fingers as he placed the brush down.

He turned to face Harry, eyes widening a fraction at the sight of the man. He was draped in a flowing black and red kimono, burnt red stitches of maple leaves that filled the home of the Uchiha clan. Those maple trees were without leaves now, the winter quickly approaching and with it the end of war if only for a moment. Harry's hair seemed damp, his hair appearing a curious sheen of dark blue as the curly tresses tumbled down his back, and bangs covered the strange fading scar on his forehead. Even when he wasn't smiling as softly as he did for their son, or sighing thoughtfully lost in his thoughts…Harry was beautiful. Beautiful in the way he was; his fierce will and bullheaded stubbornness, a touch of it shining through as emerald eyes assessed him.

Harry noticed Madara's gaze, looking down at the Kimono he was forced into by the pushy house maidens…he couldn't help but to frown in discomfort. They made him uncomfortable, not in the sense that it was too tight or scratched at his skin. Instead, the beautiful kimono sought to make him appear more submissive in a sense, soft…with the large print of the Uchiha symbol at his back.

He was in no way submissive…soft sometimes yes, but…

He could remember how the silly girls giggled, refusing him the right to bathe himself, Kaito happily indulging in their undivided attention as they washed his hair. He caught their excited whispers, and curious glances that they thought he did not see. They called him the strange healer that wasn't Senju…Madara-sama's _wife_. It was strange their conclusion, they had a child together yes…but that meant nothing when it concerned them. The silly rumor was getting around too, as the clan's men hesitated when they saw him, calling him Harry-sama carefully, mistrust still bright in their eyes.

"I see…even now you play your games with me Hashirama." Madara muttered to himself, his grey-blue haori shifting in place as he slowly stood, a scroll in hand. He turned slightly away from Harry's curious gaze, his eyes trained on the maple tree that stood outside the open shoji doors in the middle of what was once his mother's private gardens. A dot of white fell slowly from the sky, followed by two more and three, the white giving way to strange cloudy puddles. Hashirama thought he knew him well, thought he understood how much the Uchiha's curse controlled its people.

It seemed…he had made his decision, and how he would move forward with his now clear thoughts. He almost smiled when he felt Harry's curious gaze, could imagine his anger with what he would do.

Green eyes could be just as menacing as red…it was something he would need.

Harry said nothing at first, watching as the man seemingly lost himself in his thoughts, snowflakes slowly descending from grey skies. He hesitantly grabbed the sleeve of Madara's haori, pulling hesitantly, the man's unwavering gaze now trained upon him.

"I can make an antidote for the poison, I just have to extract an uncorrupted sample…" Harry began, eyes flickering to the red eye crow that watched them ever so closely.

"But first, you must tell me what you plan to do with us after I've healed your brother." Emerald eyes glared into amused black, a touch of the monster in the Uchiha's blood shining through as the man smirked slowly. Harry could feel the heavy beat of his heart against his chest, an echo in his ear for the rush of blood through his veins. He almost stepped back, Madara's hand none too gently grasping his chin with calloused fingers. A strong arm held him tightly against the man's heated body, the smell of spice tickling at his senses. Madara leaned forward, his long hair brushing against Harry's cold cheeks, lips tracing his skin as they spoke, a trail of goosebumps in their wake upon his skin as something dark throbbed within him.

"How brave…you bargain your safety with my brother's life." Madara's deep voice was low, the hold on Harry's chin tight, almost bruising. The hand around his waist tightening, the kimono bunched in strong arms as cold air caressed the skin of his exposed thigh. It was moments like these Harry could see clearly…Madara wasn't a gentle man, would never be gentle. A monster lurked under the confines of his skin…yet, he was more angry than afraid. Angry that this man would not give him an answer, would not assure him that he cared enough for his son to spare his innocent life. Angry that even with this treatment something traitorous stirred within his being, caused his breath to hitch, his throat to dry up.

Madara leaned in further, his lips tracing Harry's delicate ear as he felt the man tensed against him, reaching for the blade that was no longer strapped to his thigh. Something Harry realized as he seemingly froze in his hold.

"You needn't worry so much, I've claimed him as my heir like I assume you've wanted…the question is….are _you_ ready to be forever in my hold. After all…I have no plans to let you go, you're too valuable an asset to let run wild." Madara whispered, sounding more menacing than calming as he leaned away from Harry, pale hands caressing his cheek. It was an act that Harry didn't approve of, slapping the man's hand away as he glared; his shoulders shaking from suppressed rage. Madara said nothing, smirking for the obvious effect he had on the man…no, the mother of his child. He had made up his mind and what he would do, he would reign in his clan…show them that _he_ was their clan leader. Show them their trust belonged with him for their clan's continuation in history, the scroll held in his hand as he walked away the smell of lavender fill his senses as he brushed pass Harry, sparing not a backward glance as he left the rooms.

" _And when you have made your decision who is it that will stand by your side. Whose loyalty will be unwavering…willing or unwilling?"_

The crow cawed loudly from his perch on the gently swaying maple tree, pure white snow that ever so slowly fell almost, as if trapped in the enchantment of slow motion falling, his breath misting over.

"The clan head's wife huh?" Harry muttered to himself, his hands clenched at his side as he glanced at the partially covered portrait of a beautiful woman, five children surrounding her and a looming cold figure standing tall behind her his face hidden.

Her love…

Or her prisoner…

Was it her will to stay by her husband's side and not fight for her freedom, or was it only for the love of her children did she stay her hand?

Harry tucked a strand of curly hair behind his ear, a strange emotion in his jewel eyes, before silently leaving the study, the drape that covered the portrait falling to the ground. It revealed the face of Tajima Uchiha. At first glance he would seem cold, uncaring, but then…closer in his gaze there was ever so slightly the veiled love for his family.

_A clan head's wife never wavers, she didn't have to love her husband… but for her children she must bear the weight of the world. Forsake her freedom and fold to his biding even if it pained her…she would heal. The husband will think himself the king, will tear through the world with blood on his hands and his mind forever tormented by his acts. He will act alone, but he's not truly…_

* * *

"T-Tou-san it hurts." The small child whined, his lips blue as he shivered and shrunk in pain. He was bundled in many sheets, sweat plastering his red hair angst his scalp, a contrast to how cold he felt. The child coughed miserably, his lips stained with blood as he turned hazy honey colored eyes to his father who sat silently beside him.

"T-Tou – san please…I-It hurts." The child reached up to his unresponsive father, but his hand fell listlessly, limp as more pain racked his body. Tears slipped from red rimmed eyes to roll down round cheeks. He wanted his mother, his father wouldn't help him, and he just sat there!

He wanted his Kaa-san!

"Shiba-sama do you think it wise-" the bowed samurai didn't even get to finish his sentence before a raised hand silenced him.

"Yukimura Hanzo…son and only heir to the late Hideyoshi Hanzo. Your father was a brave man, honorable as all Samurai of the guard were." Shiba-sama spoke gruffly, his wrinkled hand carding through his son's red hair. It was so much like his own in his youth, the only child who had inherited it…the only child that had survived pass three summers. Saimei, his ninth wife, and only wife that had been able to bear him an heir who lived, had done well. Now…if things did not fall into place like the songs sung by twin birds, Saimei's effort would be in vain… their son dead.

"Honorable he might have been, but he recognized that the samurai's honor alone would not keep the land of fire afloat. He bore witness to the fall of the shogunate, watched as our lands split into factions and my rise as the Daimyo who reigned with fire."

Shiba frowned as his son whined, turning away to curl into himself, his arms wrapped tight around his stomach.

He sighed before turning his gaze to young man who still kneeled with his head bowed his form still.

"The samurai secure my reign inside our boarders…but who protects us in the shadows? Who fights with an honor that follows no code? Who is willing to do what we will not if only to keep peace?"

Hanzo looked up with troubled eyes, his hands clenched tight. "We can save lady Saimei! If you only give us the order-"

"Boy don't play the fool! What can the samurai do against a fortress of ninja in the wind country?!" Hanzo scowled at the reminder of their inadequacy. It was ninja who had stolen the Daimyo's wife on the behest of Daimyo Kogen, the ruler of the Land of Wind. The same ninja who had poisoned Shiba-sama's son, hoping to further weaken his reign.

The fire daimyo was not young after all.

"And even so…who protects the capital when you are gone. No…someone else is needed, a different type of honor. Someone the birds sing about oh so sweetly." Shiba rasped, his throat growing hoarse.

Hanzo sighed, eyes straying to the little lord, his body racked with pain as he fought his tears. Willing himself to stay strong, but failing as sobs escaped him. A child, only six years old…led to suffer for greed, for power. He would avenge his young master, protect him like he was meant to, but ultimately failed. If acquiring help from elsewhere would help him seek vengeance…then he would accept this honor of a different kind that the birds song of.

"Shiba-sama…do you think they will accept? Will they give up so much …for a cause that is your own?" Hanzo asked carefully.

Shiba did not answer, gaze trained on the falling snow, the closed windows misting over until nothing could be seen.

"The birds sing of a new era, and upon it the fire reigns…the fire stands with pride once more." Shiba muttered, lost in his thoughts as he was most days.

Hanzo frowned before he cast his gaze at the crackling fire place, embers fluttering in the open space before it was consumed once more in orange flames.

An honor of a different kind…it wasn't something hard to comprehend, but a concept that must be accepted for the reign of the land of fire.

* * *

Izuna sat back straight, his loose hair falling limp over his shoulders. He seemed tired, dark circle deep under his eyes as his chest fell and rose as if he had trouble breathing. He shifted for a moment, black eyes glancing tiredly to his right, were a mortar and pestle rested, a strange green herb staining them.

"An antidote…Harry had spent days while you were out cold, grinding and combining herbs to make it…he only needs one more ingredient and…" Madara spoke softly, his deep voice almost soothing as his brother refused to look at him. He trailed off, eyes unwavering from Izuna who sat with his sickly pale hands folded in his lap. He frowned, his hands clenched tight as he looked away, glaring at his hands.

The air was tense, tenser than it had ever been between the two brothers. They were strangely disconnected, far apart from the other despite being in each other's presence. Their bond was strained, pulled too thin…their wills different in that instance. Madara clenched his teeth tight, lest he fracture what little peace reigned between…he kept silent in light of Izuna's resentment. And how bitter it tasted upon his lips, he had done all he could to secure his brother's life…see him live life anew.

Bitter indeed, for what did he receive in return? Blank stares, cold silence and the taste of betrayal…the feeling that he had done something inconceivable! The taste of flawed truth that he was somehow unworthy, that he-

"Why are you here brother?" Izuna uttered softly, clenching and unclenching his fingers as if to test their strength. Test if he could rise from the bed that held him captive, bound his will as his brother failed to do what must be done. Bound his will as his brother proved as weak as he had always been…

Madara said nothing at first, his mind free of thought as the wind outside howled in their ears, a strange song of winter that approached with the kiss of snow upon its breath. Above the rafters rattled, the muffled chatter of his clans men carrying into the room and with it the beat of hypnotic drums and eerie bamboo flutes. Madara closed his eyes, allowing the sounds to carry him away, a curious call of Harry-sama from house maidens bring a touch of a smile, before it was gone, and silence reigned once more.

"You do not approve…and that's ok. You don't need to approve, you can sit here and hate me…scoff at my decision and call me fool, it doesn't matter." Madara spoke smoothly, no hesitation as he slowly stood. It was strange, in his brother's silence…he felt a weight lifting from his shoulders, his mind free and for the first time…he saw.

" _Madara-kun…a clan head does not have the privilege of a simple life. The will of the clan is always put before his own…no matter the consequences to himself. A clan head cannot be selfish, cannot be weak…cannot waver in the choices he has made."_

" _Our clan is on the brink of destruction and your focus wavers…what is more important? Your brother's will…or the survival of the Uchiha?"_

Without a word he turned to leave, but hesitated as Izuna spoke once more, coal eyes glaring into his own; the mark of hatred clear as his iris bled red, tomoes swirling lazily before freezing in place.

"I won't forgive you if you do this! Madara…brother, we'll only win if w-" Izuna began almost desperately, the sheets flung from his body as he struggled to get up. His eyes willing his brother to understand, to see his will!

See the will of their father and the vow they made silently at their mother's grave!

"If you don't forgive me…that's ok too, I don't need your forgiveness, I only needed you to see, but you are blind." Madara's smile was bitter and a touch sad as he looked at his struggling brother, betrayal and pain in the younger's eyes.

Izuna's eyes widened as he watched his brother finally leave, the sound of his footsteps echoing in his ear. He fought the sheets that tangled around his feet, tumbling out of the bed to land painfully, blood seeping through torn and rotting skin, a state he had returned to weeks after the strange man had healed him.

"Madara!" Izuna screamed, willing his brother to turn back, to look at him.

"Madara you can't do this! You can't!" tears burned at his eyes, blood splattering to the floor as he was racked with violent coughs. He clenched his hands tight that his nails dug into thin skin, beads of blood staining his palms.

"You can't…I won't let you…" he whispered frantically, his vision fading in and out, in the distance he could hear the frantic calls of the Uchiha healers, someone pulling him into the bed…bright green eyes.

"I won't…I won't let you…" He whispered over and over, the image of his brother's sad smile morphing into an emotionless beast. Cold…uncaring, not a backward glance, his black and blood red robes fluttering past now closed shoji doors.

Leather feet silent…silence.

"Brother…please…" His only thought as hot tears slid from his closed eyes, the vision of the twin dragons twisting around the one and only brother he loved dearly, walking into ever consuming fire.

* * *

Harry sighed tiredly, his head buried in his folded arms as the steam rose from the bath, a large structure embedded in the floor. The air was filled with soothing lavender and chamomile, a sigh escaping Harry's lips yet again as he peered from the cradle of his arms to look at his son who was busy eating his toes. The child giggled happily, rolling slightly on the large whine colored pillow his father had seemingly gifted him, stitches of the Uchiha clan symbol on the edges.

Kaito…he was carefree, he wasn't troubled by persistent thoughts that lingered for days on end. Wasn't seemingly trapped and twisted by confusion, with no clear path in mind.

He had as he loath to admit…he had been naïve. From the moment of Kaito's birth knowing that he bore an Uchiha child…to ultimately following the very same clan's leader to his own prison…

Yes…naïve.

Did he really think that someway...somehow, he and Kaito would have been free, the he would have been left to exist in peace outside the influence of the Uchiha, when he began healing Izuna?

It had been a childish thought…

Kaito giggled again, tilting on his side as if to roll over, before he was flat on his back again, wide black eyes confused before he sucked at his little toes.

" _You needn't worry so much, I've claimed him as my heir like I assume you've wanted…the question is….are you ready to be forever in my hold. After all…I have no plans to let you go, you're too valuable an asset to let run wild."_

Madara Uchiha was a strange man…he was cold, he was harsh; he was fierce… yet loved his brother so fiercely that it could very well lead him to madness. He was a man that showed very little, confused him, and carried a heavy weight on his shoulders.

Most of all, surrounded by his clan's men, once accusing glares now hesitant glances…he was alone.

"What should your chichi-ue do Kaito?" Harry smiled softly, tweaking his son's little toe, getting an excited squeal for his efforts.

The smile fell off Harry's face quickly, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. A heavy gaze was set upon him, the rising steam obscured his vision, but he knew someone was there…someone was watching.

Harry frowned turning slightly, strands of his hair escaping the messy bun atop his head, tumbling into the hot water.

"How long are you going to stand there?" Harry asked, almost as if he was disinterested.

He could hear the slow shuffle of fabric, steps slow and measured, before whoever it was sat cross legged behind him. Harry did not turn around, green eyes trained on Kaito who reached for air, gummy smile wide for whatever only he could see.

"Children…such beautiful beings, a touch of innocence in this cruel world that we live in." The voice was raspy and wizened in the ways that old men were. It was a tone that despite its frailty, captured your attention…bid you listen for its hidden meanings. Harry glanced from the corner of his eye, a man with milky white eyes, hands crossed and tucked in the wide sleeves of his kimono, smiled at him.

Smiled at him with unseeing eyes.

"Ahh, you are curious…this one's name is Aoi and you…you are Harry, a strange name indeed." Harry said nothing, a frown clear as he studied this odd man…a clan elder if his memory served him right.

What did he want?

"I've confused you, how unbecoming that I treat the clan head's wife-"

"I'm not his wife!" Harry almost snarled, only barely keeping his anger at bay as he glared at the strange old man that smiled so serenely.

"Oh? You're not…yet you make no attempt to leave, to fight your plight." Aoi leaned forward, milky eyes trained on the squirming child.

"No…instead you stay here, healing Madara-sama's brother at the expense of your strength and freedom…endearing yourself to our clans men without even trying." He pulled his gaze from the child to look into Harry's troubled eyes.

"He confuses you…I see. You wish to hate him, the man that has trapped you here, the man that is cruel and know no love…or is that even true?"

Harry tsked, looking away from the too knowing eyes, flashes of that one stupid night rampant in his mind. The way fierce eyes looked into his own, the writhing of their bodies upon silk sheets, his loss of breath and wavering vision as he gave himself, and breathed only Madara in that moment. The moon bearing witness to their lust, to the pull that confused him, that made him hate himself. This was not love, it was something dark, something devastating, and whatever choice he made would seal his fate or set him free.

_Dark times lay ahead of us, and there will be a time when we must choose between what is easy and what is right._

Harry frowned, a strange feeling of weights lifting from his shoulders, a memory of his unknown past, the last one he would ever have fading as if but a dream. A warm aged voice, with so much pain, and so much love, twinkling blue eyes …his last farewell.

"I see my work is done, a pleasant thing when the weight lifts is it not? Harry-sama…if I may…your precious son is Uchiha is he not?" Aoi gave one last curious look to the child, a strange smile in place before he stood and made to leave.

As if an after taught he glanced over his shoulder at Harry who studied his child, expression grim.

"If the tower falls, he falls with it…who dares hold the tower upward, despite the strain…despite the pain." With that the elder was gone, leaving Harry once more with his thoughts, the taste of spice and something fierce, a memory that lingered on his lips.

"Kaito…what must your chichi-ue do?" The child did not answer, leaving Harry cruelly with his thoughts.

What was easy…or what was right?

But…what if nothing was right…

What if…

With a frown, emerald eyes hardened.

His eyes were open…

For the first time…

He saw.

* * *

Shouts of rage echoed down the halls, glass shattering, the sound of wood breaking, heavy instruments flung violently.

Miyaki trembled, hot tears slipping down her cheeks as she tried to hold in her desperate sobs.

"Why?! What have I done that you punish me?!" anguished shouts echoed in her ears, her clans men heads were bowed, their hands clenched tight as if to hold back their own emotions.

What agony did they feel that their clan head did not feel tenfold…the man they claimed could feel nothing.

Miyaki looked up teary eyed, their clan's men parting to allow Harry through…his face held no emotions, green eyes unreadable. Outside, the snowfall was heavy, leafless maple trees barely visible as they swayed in unforgiving winds.

She wondered…did the wind mourn as they did, did it feel their pain and despair. The bitterness upon their lips and the blood in their hands.

Did it weep for precious life lost…?

"Miyaki…will you watch him for me?" Harry spoke softly, placing the sleeping babe in her shocked hands. She looked up in hesitation, and a touch of fear…Harry-sama would trust her, trust her when it was her fault that Izuna-sama-

"Miyaki…won't you hold him?" Harry's smile was strange, it was sad…but a strange acceptance in jewel eyes that was so beautiful, that stood strong. The Uchiha watched on, a strange sense of strength returned to them in that moment. Acceptance in their pain, and an emptiness …an emptiness that left their mind clear as the frozen rains pierced through vulnerable land.

Where was the anger?

Where was the rage?

Why through emerald green eyes were they calm…why was there peace?

Miyaki nodded hesitantly, her hands enveloping the innocent child in her embrace, Kaito smacking his lips together before sucking on a small thumb. She looked up as Harry brushed past her, the scent of lavender lingering as he silently disappeared from their sight.

No one noticed the clan elder Dai watching from the shadows, a curious vial hidden within he sleeves, his twin brother meeting his sightless gaze.

* * *

Madara stood leaned over his study table, spilt ink staining yellowed paper and spilling over the edge, dripping one drop at a time upon tatami mats. His breaths were harsh, his hands holding so tight to the table that the wood splintered, his teeth clenched.

"Leave." His voice was rough, a dangerous edge as the table splintered further, wood digging into his palms and blood smeared beneath them. Madara listened as the shogi doors closed slowly, then quiet footsteps that stopped behind him.

"I said leave." He said tiredly, the strange sting in his eyes too familiar, too much like the weak boy that wept at his mother's feet. Shamed for a fault that was not his own, the weight of the world upon his shoulders. The judgment of his clan upon his back, forever the child who could do no right.

Failure…

" _I won't forgive you if you do this! Madara…brother, we'll only win if w-"_

"Get out!" Madara snarled, sharingan violently spinning, bleeding crimson red like the blood of innocence he had spilled. His eyes were wild, rage and madness like a crazed dog…or crazed wolf, his pupils blown wide open as he grabbed Harry's arms. Harry didn't flinch, the hold biting into his skin, the burn strengthening his resolve as he stared unwavering into Madara's eyes.

Mad…

Wild…

Broken…

"I sai‑" Madara's eyes widened, faltering for a second though his grip tightened. Harry slowly placed a gentle hand on his cheek, the Uchiha almost flinching from the touch.

"I…" Madara wavered, tears that burnt at his eyes spilling free for the first time in several years.

"Shhhh." Harry hushed gently, pulling the man closer, cradling his head in the grove of his neck. Madara shuddered, his arms encircling Harry as they both sank to the floor.

"Why?" Madara's whisper was hoarse, his face buried in soft skin, Harry embrace warm, loving…real.

Harry said nothing at first, green eyes trained on the single maple that stood, its bare branches covered in drooping snow, patches falling off for every shift of wind.

"There is no love between us…I had even thought to hate you. The man that trapped me within his hold, the man with too many faces, that I knew not where the monster begun or ended." Harry's voice was gentle, his hand carding through thick black hair, as the burning heat from Madara's body seeped into his own; their red and black kimonos so intertwined that one would not know where one began or where one ended.

"You are the father of my child…my son is Uchiha, you _are_ the Uchiha's will. I do not have to love you…or you me. For me, that is enough…I will stand by your side, do what I must to see your-…our clan survive."

Harry pulled away slightly to look into conflicted red eyes, the rage warring with his will, the will that was his own. Harry gently wiped a tear away before bestowing upon the man a sad smile, so beautiful in its purity. He leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss upon the man's thin lips, before resting his head against a firm chest. He could hear Madara's heartbeat, a raging storm that slowly gave way to calm winds.

"You needn't fight alone…you are not alone. We are here, you must only ask, and only then shall you receive." Harry whispered, his words, his touch…

"Forgive me…" Madara whispered burying his face in soft curly hair, sweet lavender filled his senses, and though rage still lurked beneath his skin…the drums of war for once were silent in his ear.

_It is the clan's head wife who truly rules, who paves the way for her children…it is she who will see past the clan head's cruelty, see past his mask. It is then she draws strength, all for the will of her children…and perhaps then and only then love will bloom._

* * *

He didn't understand, what was this?! It wasn't right, it wasn't supposed to be like this! His clan's men wondered around aimlessly, the Uchiha compound was empty. The doors of many homes swinging lifelessly in the wind, creaks echoing for every push and pull. Walk ways covered in many feet of snow, this place was abandoned.

"You said they were here! Do you think us fools?!" Tobirama raged in the distance, his hand held tight around a man's neck, his greying hair limp, and black eyes terrified.

"I-I-I I swear! Please I swear this is the Uchiha compound, we were here a month ago!" The man stuttered, flinching from terrifying red eyes, fighting the strong grip around his neck.

"You li-" Tobirama raged, only to find his hand captured in Hashirama's hold, preventing him from striking the Uchiha deserter. He had fled to them with tails of Madara's rage, his loss of reason…the catalyst…Izuna's sudden death.

Sudden, for he was being healed by some strange man, the Uchiha… Kazami was his name, had whispered looking quite frightful, as if he feared Madara would hear his betrayal beyond Senju walls.

Hashirama frowned, his dark eyes trained upon the Uchiha clan symbol painted on a bare wall.

"Brother…you said in his rage he would come after us…the curse of hatred…" Itama trailed off softly, standing beside his still brother.

"We decided to go to them….act when he was in rage, attack when he wasn't thinking-" Itama picked up hesitantly, Tobirama coming to stand beside him.

"Something changed…where are the Uchiha?" The white haired Senju muttered in unease.

Hashirama said not a word, flashes of the memories of his youth filling his mind. The laughing visage of Madara, the same boy who could not pee with someone standing at his back. Nervous he said it made him, the same boy that turned man on the battle field, the endless battles and denouncement of their friendship. The man he had claimed to know…but standing here in this empty compound…how much did he know really?

It seemed that truce he had hoped for would not come today...

Perhaps…

It would never come, as long as the Uchiha remained unfound.

"Come, there is nothing for us here." Hashirama muttered, his clans' men sheathing their weapons, eyes searching but would never find.

The traitor Uchiha's throat was slit, too quick for him to even realize, dark almost black blood spilling across crisp white snow…the Senju's breath misting over for every exhale.

* * *

Madara pulled his fur cloak closer to his neck, his son held comfortably against his chest, Harry humming lightly beside him. Behind them the entire clan trekked silently, now and again glancing towards where there home was once. He could see that they mourned the loss of their home, were afraid of the new path they now walked. Yet…as their eyes caught his, he saw hope, acceptance…and for the first time trust.

It was strange, having his clan's trust…no longer regarded with hate, there was still fear but…

_Madara stood before the burning pyre that held his brother's body, draped in white and consumed by fire as the wood beneath crackled. The snow had stop falling, at least for a while, it was calm enough for them to send his dearly beloved brother off…the one that died with only betrayal in his eyes as his brother walked away. Harry touched his hand, bringing him out of his thoughts…Madara looking at him with deep black eyes. His son was cuddled up to his mother, black eyes peering at the fire in wonder, cooing softly…unaware of what was truly transpiring around him. He could feel the heavy gaze of his clan at his back, something he ignored momentarily as Kaito grabbed at his fingers, black eyes glittering happily._

_Innocence…and looking into Harry's green eyes he found strength to do what he must._

" _My brother is dead…he was a victim of war. A victim like many others that have fallen for a pointless battle that no one can remember the cause of." Madara's voice carried over to the gathered crowd, a crow perched on a single branch above him._

" _We lose against the Senju, not because you are weak. We lose because I myself was weak…what kind of clan head does not lead by his own will?" The clan was shocked, you could see from the widening of their eyes, the fidgeting of their limbs._

_Was this real?_

_Did Madara Uchiha admit weakness?_

" _All my life I've listened to words of others, my father…my brother…I wavered. A clan head does not waver! My weakness ends tonight…the Uchiha is my will, you are my family and I will do what I must to protect this family!" His eyes were fierce, standing tall…open to the judgment of his clan's men without a flicker of fear._

" _I come to you today as your leader…I bid you follow my will. I bid you walk this new path with me, I bid you turn from the curse of hatred!"_

_Harry felt his heart skip a beat, the words though simple carrying so much weight, so much resolve._

_So much emotion….Madara's true will._

_Silence enveloped the clan, the crackling of Izuna's pyre loud in their ears, Madara…the leader of the Uchiha standing tall and beside him the strange healer, and a squirming child, a man they dubbed the clan leader's wife._

" _The reign of fire!"_

" _The reign of fire!"_

" _The reign of fire!" One voice shouted, then two, then the entire clan, sharingans ablaze, an answer to Madara's own that swirled lazily. He cast his crimson gaze on Harry who watched silently, hushing Kaito who was startled by the loud shouts. He paused at the heavy gaze, glancing at Madara from the corner of his eye. They were locked in an unwavering stare, crimson into emerald, and emerald into crimson. In an unexpected move Madara raised Harry's hand, kissing the knuckles gently before whispering-_

" _The reign of fire."_

"Madara…we're here." Harry spoke softly, eyes trained on something in the distance. Before them a large city sprawled for miles on end, in its center the legendary castle of the fire daimyo.

"The reign of fire huh…" Harry smiled before walking after Madara, who had gotten ahead, the Uchiha clan strong in their resolve, walking with heads held high behind them.

* * *

They moved swiftly in the cover of night, twisting shadows and the muted whoosh of air as they all but flew through the trees in the cover of night. A strangled cry of fright sounded in their air, only to be cut off before its debut, the thud of a lifeless body crumbling beneath them.

Another one down…

Another man dead…

Madara's hair bellowed behind him as he made a sharp turn through thick foliage, it was odd. The trees here, did not lose their leaves, and winter…it was as if it had never come, boiling heat at the back of their necks for each distance they gained.

Below him, the soil gave way to silty sand, his men moving at lightning speeds below, weapons armed before they sunshined at high speeds, vanishing one after another.

Madara smirked, eyes trained on the capitol of the wind country, the sound of war drums in his ear, his now second in command Inabi by his side.

All for the reign of fire he thought, the flash of emerald eyes vivid in his mind, the stubborn man's scowling visage. Chuckling darkly to himself, garnering a curious stare from Inabi, they both sunshined at lightning speeds, a trail of fresh spilled blood in their wake.

" _Ahh, the birds sing true." Shiba- sama rasped, as he stood out on the lonely balcony. The snow storm had stopped if only for a moment, his heavy fur cloak pulled taught around his neck as ice cold winds ruffled his grey hair. His form was thin, unusually so, a mark of stress and tormented nights without sleep. A crack in his once powerful armor as his son continued to suffer, and his land plunged into war, a clash between the land of wind and the land of fire._

_Shiba hummed as he felt the dark presence in his peripheral. It was intimidating in the way assassins were. You couldn't hear their approach, at times you would be fooled to think them not there…when you least expect it, you are stricken down._

_You are dead._

" _Madara Uchiha, leader of the Uchiha clan…welcome to the capitol." Shiba smiled in that aged way he did. You could never quite tell what lurked behind his thin smile, eyes squinted as if unbothered by the events around him. Madara's expression did not shift, cold black eyes trained upon the frail man, noting every tremble of hands, the slump of shoulders…fidgeting toes that curled and uncurled._

" _You summoned…Daimyo- sama." The title was uttered as if an afterthought, or if it physically pained the Uchiha to utter such reverence from his lips. Shiba couldn't help his croaking laugh, the Uchiha over the years had not changed. They held great pride, breathed arrogance…but unlike the blindness of the populace…he saw beneath their façade._

" _None of that young one…you needn't refer to me by title. I'm not above you, or you above me…yet perhaps not yet equals. Though…that is a concept that can be easily changed should you find the will to listen._

_Madara narrowed his eyes, before nodding slowly, his gaze hawk like as Shiba slowly crossed the length of his private study to stand before his work desk. The fire place crackled, wood popping as if to break the silence, casting the room in a golden haze._

" _Kogen seeks to move across my boarders, he wishes to rule my lands and add it to his growing power. Already my samurai find themselves locked in battle day after day, my people terrified." Shiba picked up a folded scroll, the ink upon it drying as if written only moments ago._

" _He holds my wife hostage, has poisoned my child to weaken my reign…after all, I have no suitable wife to beget another. I am old Uchiha-san, I am old…and soon I will die."_

_Madara remained unaffected by the man's plight, something that amused Shiba as he felt the heavy gaze on his back. Many would say he was stupid to secure such a meeting without a guard, alone with a killer that could end his life in a blink of an eye. He could have searched for aid amongst the Senju, their leader was known to be kind…to be honorable. Yes he could have…but-_

" _I ask you Madara-san, help me secure my reign! Help me destroy the obstacles in my path, and retrieve my wife!"_

_Silence reigned between the two, Shiba's eyes desperate, and a plea that would not leave his lips. If it would not have seemed weak…he would have prostrated himself before the Uchiha, bid him help him!_

" _And what does the Uchiha receive in return?" Madara's baritone was deep, smooth like silk covered steel; the edges sharp, a wolf locked unto the rusting scent of fresh blood._

_Shiba smiled almost to himself, his gaze trained outside as the wind whistled like the lost breath of a bamboo flute._

" _The shogunate fell with the death of our once emperor. The Daimyo rose to power, the land split into factions. The Daimyo of fire reigns if only for the power that surrounds him; the honor of the samurai, the enlightened monks…"_

_He turned to Madara, jeweled hand outstretched as he offered the yellowed scroll._

"… _and the raging fire that burns ever so bright within the shadows."_

_Madara stared at the man, searching his soul, weighing his will before his gloved hand circled around the offered document._

" _And so it shall be done, the Uchiha will heal your son, secure your reign…become the Daimyo's shadow…" Madara tucked the scroll within his wide sleeves before turning away from the relieved man, he stopped in place and stared over his shoulder, Mangekyo sharingan blazing._

"… _But if the Daimyo should ever betray the Uchiha….should his loyalty waver…" Nothing else was said, Madara leaving as silently as he had come._

_Shiba sighed in relief, slumping in the empty chair that stat before the fire place._

" _Welcome to the capitol, shadow of the Daimyo…let your reign be long and fruitful, and our friendship, let it grow…let it usher in a new era."_

" _The reign of fire is secure"_

* * *

_Harry watched in veiled curiosity as Madara spoke to a group of men he had selected to accompany him on the mission issued by the Daimyo. Court ladies and servants peered curiously, eyes alight in wonder as the snow began to fall once more._

" _Kaa-chan!" Kaito gurgled happily from Miyaki's arms, the healer standing a little ways behind him. His eye brow twitched violently at the title, he wasn't a woman damn it!_

" _Kaa-chan! Kaa-chan!" Kaito's favorite word he could tell, big black eyes glittering in accomplishment before sticking his fist in his mouth. He didn't even have teeth yet and the kid was already an avid chatterbox. Miyaki giggled at his plight, nuzzling the child, Harry sighed, and then he felt it…Madara's gaze._

_The man was always staring…_

_Things had been odd between the two after the night Madara broke down within his arms…after the night he proclaimed his willingness to stay by the man's side without love. To stay by his side, when dislike still stirred and confusion reigned as king within their household._

_Harry pulled his warm cloak around his neck, his breath misting over as he walked toward the clan leader and his gathered men._

" _Come to see your husband off dear Harry…and here I thought you were not the clan head's wife." Madara smirked, amusement in his eyes as he studied Harry's lightly scowling visage. Around him his men chuckled themselves, eyeing the two before losing themselves in their own conversations._

" _Here take this! I'm sure you'll chop off a finger or two in your arrogance!" Harry glared, hand holding out a small bag with healing herbs. Madara tilted his head at the gift, something flickering in his eyes and too fast for Harry to even register he was pulled against a firm chest. Arms tightening around his waist._

_Around him the house maidens giggled, the sleeves of their kimonos covering their mouths, and clans men looked on in smug acceptance._

_Madara whispered against the shell of Harry's ear, a shiver running up his spine._

" _You wound me dear wife…"_

" _Oh?" Harry questioned, craning his neck to look up at the man that towered over him, his green eyes narrowed, before a wide smile crossed his features. Too quick, that even Madara's eyes widened in surprise Harry fisted the man in his crotch, said man howling in pain as he crumbled to the floor. The clan's men winced, eyes flittering nervously to Harry, filled with fear as they discreetly scooted away from their downed clan head, hands on their own crotch._

" _You son of a bitch!" Madara howled, caring not for his outburst as his eyes watered in pain._

" _Come Miyaki! The daimyo's son will not heal himself, and Madara…do come back in one piece if you can even manage that much." Harry scoffed, kimono bellowing behind him as he entered the castle with his hands folded in his wide sleeves, Miyaki with wide eyes following behind him._

" _Huh…Madara-sama, I didn't know you were into masochism…we should really discuss such odd kinks more often you know." Inabi, his second in command crouched beside him, a wide smile on his face as he pated his clan heads shoulder. The clan's men all chuckled in amusement at the man's plight. Madara curled into himself on the snow covered floor, wheezing and heaving for breath._

" _Inabi…shut up!"_

"Please mercy! Mercy I beg you!" The wind daimyo was obscenely large, flaps of skin wobbling as he tried to desperately crawl away, naked as the day he was born. To the side of the room a beautiful woman with snow white hair sobbed, her kimono pulled askew. It seemed he had arrived just in time, she didn't seem hurt…just shocked, her soft cheeks severely bruised.

"I can pay you! Just name the price I ca-" The wind daimyo's eyes widened, grasping at his neck desperately as a shower of blood reigned. He gargled on the wooden floor, his body spluttering like a fish out of water, his wide hands reaching up to his attacker, blazing red eyes the last thing he would see.

Madara turned to the trembling woman, his gloved hand outstretched for her to take as she looked at him in fright.

"Fire reigns once more…" He whispered, a strange smile across his blood splattered face. The woman sobbed, flinging herself into the killer's arms, body trembling as he almost gently patted her head.

Outside the wind howled, and the sounds of steel clashing against steel sang soothing hymns to drums of war within his heart, and fed the monster within his blood.

* * *

**Four years later…**

"Kaito wait! Kaito!" The patrons of the crowded market looked on in amusement as the Daimyo's son sprinted down the streets, his fiery hair bright in the blazing sun. It was a scene they were used to, the little lord having to chase after the hyperactive son of their shadow, said child laughing at the top of his lungs. And wasn't that something, in the four years the shadow had come to the capitol, the Land of Fire's influence and power increased tenfold. Ninja clans such as the Hyuga, Shimura, Rinha, and Hoki flocking to the capitol, building what seemed to have the potential to be a lasting alliances with the revered shadow. With them a ninja presence was born within their home, the protectors of the night who fought alongside samurais the acceptance of the concept of different types of honor wildly accepted.

Then there was the slow build of increasing the influence of medicine, the shadow's wife leading alongside other's… the clan head of the Hoki… Masuyo, a beautiful woman and the clan head of the Roki…Juro. There was a friendship there, both clan heads willing to help the shadow's wife with the handicap of not having chakra, while he himself shared innovative ideas and concepts of healing. Many of their children aspired to learn under such influential people, and where once children sang only of being samurai, they now sang of ninja and healers.

"You're too slow Sushun!" Kaito shouted, his spikey black hair tumbling around his shoulders as he glanced over, grinning in that silly way he did. For a four year old the kid was really fast, a testament to the effort of the figures on the roof moving swiftly to keep their clan's heir in sight.

"Kaito I said wait!" Sushun huffed, eyes widening as the little boy collided in the towering form of a smiling man. Behind him he could hear the startled shouts of the samurai who followed as closely as the ninja upon the roof tops.

"Ow!" Kaito whined, large black eyes watering as he rubbed at his head.

"Are you alright?" the warm deep voice caused Kaito to look up in shock, the reveal of his face resulting in sudden gasps sounding from the group that surrounded the man.

"M-Madara?" the man whispered in shock almost reaching for the child, but was stopped by the kunai that nearly impaled his hand, landing as a barrier between man and child. Sushun finally caught up, bent over with his hands on his knees as he gasped for breath. Behind him the samurai clattered, suspicious eyes trained on the delegation.

"Kaito don't run off like that, it's not safe!" Sushun scowled as he lectured, the ten year old far beyond his age, his hand akimbo. At the clear of a throat Sushun blushed, not noticing the delegation before them.

Turning swiftly to face the group he almost faltered, the clan symbol quite familiar, he had sat with the Shadow when he was not busy, learning the history the man had lived through. That symbol was of the Senju, the Uchiha's once enemy.

"A...Ah…" he began hesitantly, before glancing at Kaito who blinked owlishly at him. He cleared his throat as he squared his shoulders before glaring fiercely, something that obviously amused the delegation.

"Welcome to the capitol stranger, what business do you have in my father's domain?"

Hashirama couldn't help the chuckle that escaped, he could already see that he was trained well…would perhaps become a capable leader when the time came. Beside him Tobirama shuffled uneasily, eyes not straying from the small black haired child that the samurai kindly helped up. He looked so much like Madara…a bit softer, but very much the image of the man who had vanished along with his clan.

Around him he could sense the nervous flutter of ninja's surrounding them, they couldn't be seen, but they were there…the chakra distinctly unique to the Uchiha clan. Was this where they had gone…and if it was them, if his mind wasn't playing tricks on him…why had they settled here.

Why had the war stopped so suddenly…?

Without a word.

"Your father is expecting us I believe young one. We do have an audience you see…" Hashirama grinned, the boy hesitating before nodding. He reached for Kaito's hand, the little boy silent as that strange Senju man stared him down with red eyes.

"Tobirama…I believe you're scaring the child." Hashirama muttered amused as the ninja above shifted and the Samurai glared. Tobirama only tsked, before looking away with a scowl.

"I'm not scared!" Kaito scowled, folding his hands across his chest as he glared.

"Kaito!" Sushun warned.

Scoffing Kaito looked away, his nose in the air.

"But I'm not though! What they should be scared of is kaa-chan and that weird pan he carries around!" At the mention of said apparent mother, the samurai shuddered, and even a whimper sounded from the ninja above.

Sushun shuddered himself, the sounds of the shadows tortured screams in the dead of night quite scary, the shadow just always annoyed his wife it seemed.

It was weird how a stoic man like the shadow could be so easily cowed.

"Well if you have an audience with father, you might as well follow me." He lazily waved his hand about before pulling a protesting Kaito along.

"Love…is that…?" Mito Uzumaki, his wife asked softly, her hand placed on his arm as she caressed the gently swell of her stomach.

Eyes flickering over to the Daimyo's sigil a strange triad symbol with the kanji for honor, wisdom and shadows fluttering in the wind.

"I…I don't know."

* * *

The daimyo hummed as breathed out the soothing tobacco smoke from his pipe. He sat relaxed in his cushioned chair, his wife happily knitting away beside him, not a mind being paid to the delegation before her.

"A village you say…to usher a new era of peace?" His voice was raspy, either form great age or smoking too much.

No one truly knew.

"The time of war should end. It only destroys opportunity, progress…it's a waste of life that can be prevented. Children should not be forced to fight at only six years old!" Hashirama spoke passionately, the vision of peace so close within his grasp.

"And so you seek my aid to see your dream bear fruit…tell me Hashirama Senju, what will stop you from rising against the capitol if I sanction the creation of this _ninja_ village?" Shiba-sama.

"My brother is an honorable man Daimyo-sama! He would nev-" Itama shouted in outrage from his seat behind his brother, only to be stopped by Hashirama's raised hand.

"You speak distrust for ninja…yet your capitol if rumor is true, is populated with them. Clan's, powerful clans that fall under a shadow, an alliance constructed to work in the dead of night…" Tobirama began, his voice smooth and carrying through the meeting hall.

"Is it that you distrust them too, loyal subject-" Tobirama continued only for him to look on affronted as the Daimyo began to laugh raucously, coughs racking his body as his wife covered her giggles with her kimono sleeves.

"Boy they are no subjects to me! Sharpened weapons yes…but who wouldn't play the part of a weapon for who they see as family!"

Tobirama frowned, confusion in his gaze as he looked over at his brother who remained silent through it all.

"It's like I said many years ago, the Daimyo of fire reigns if only for the power that surrounds him. The Samurai, the monks, the _ninja…_ we are all equal." Taking another drag of his pipe, Shiba turned his gaze to the flickering shadow to his right, an action that caused the Senju to train their gaze in the same direction.

"What say you fire that reigns in the shadow?"

Hashirama felt his heart seize and his mouth dry, his brothers' and wife shocked, Tobirama simmering with suppressed anger and Itama conflicted.

"It is as the boy said…Hashiram Senju is an honorable man, give him the lands, watch him usher an era of peace." Madara spoke coldly, his eyes unwavering from the shocked dark eyes of Hashirama Senju.

* * *

"You're hiding from someone." Harry concluded with a distracted hum, Madara watching the man flutter around the healing quarters gifted to him.

"I'm not!" Madara scowled, his hands folded across his chest, Harry snorting as the image of a pouty Kaito crossed his mind.

Well at least he knew where the little brat got it from.

"Of course you're not, the fact that Hashirama Senju has been looking for you is not a factor." Harry drawled as he reached for a vial placed to high up on a shelf. Madara snorted at the man's struggle, moving close behind him, a hand around a thin waist as he retrieved the vial easily. Harry took the offered vial silently, Madara pressing up behind him as he rested his head in the cradle of the shorter man's neck.

Harry carded his hand through the man's thick hair before working silently, filling the vials with healing potion he had brewed earlier in the day. They always had moments like this it seemed, Madara at his back, his heat leaching into his own body as he silently worked. A strange friendship had grown between them, and underlying sexual tension high in times like this, when Madara would kiss the exposed skin of his neck.

A curious hand trialed down his side, parting the overlapping silk of his kimono to trail up his thigh, goosebumps rising as calloused dipped so close but too far…a lingering touch as Harry bit his lips, his hand trembling as he unconsciously grind against the hard length pressed up against him.

"Madara…what are you doing?" Harry whispered breathlessly, a soft moan escaping as Madara closed his hand around his stiffening length, the slow drag of skin torturous as his nipples perked.

"It's been four years…five since that night. I haven't forgotten your touch, the heat of your body…those sweet moans…" Madara whispered, nipping at Harry's ear as the man trembled in his hold.

Harry looked into coal eyes with a half lidded gaze, his breath deep and shuddering as that hand trailed up his chest, pinched at his nipples, an act that got him to grind hard and slow, a louder moan from red bitten lips.

"I want you…" Madara's voice was deep, smooth…dark as he captured Harry's lips in a desperate kiss, a fight for control as Harry spun in his hold, his exposed thigh held against strong hips. They lost themselves for a moment, Madara deepening the kiss with a primal growl, his fingers digging in the supple flesh of Harry's ass.

It would have gone further, Harry's kimono sleeve falling away to reveal a tanned shoulder, his chest heaving as someone quite suddenly cleared their throat.

"What?!" Madara all but snarled, his second in command unfazed in his amusement as Harry pushed Madara away, fixing his kimono as he swiftly turned away from the two men.

"Apologies in your mauling session Madara-sama, but a squalling pig stands quite vigilant outside your rooms. He demands he see you, or he'll reveal how you can't pee-"

"I get it Inabi! You don't have to say anything else!" Madara shouted, his face flaming red as he stumped pass his fellow clan's man.

Inabi only smiled serenely, silence reigning as Harry shuffled awkwardly with numerous vials.

"So does it mean we'll have another Kaito soon, the house maidens grow quite weary with a little ch-" Inabi began slyly only to stop short and ducking for cover as a glass vial shattered where his head had been.

"Get out!"

Inabi fled the scene quite comically, the patrolling samurai tilting their heads curiously before dismissing the strange creature that seemed to be screeching in the healer's room.

The Uchiha sure were strange.

* * *

The night was quite beautiful, the Uchiha compound overlooked the sprawling capitol, the twinkling lights as beautiful as the stars that shined above them. The leaves whispered excitedly for every dance of the wind, the moon casting an eerie but beautiful glow upon the man that sat cross legged in the garden.

"A beautiful place…a perfect blend of man and nature. Balance."

Madara said nothing as the man spoke behind him, his eyes closed as his black kimono sleeves fluttered in the wind.

Hashirama sighed, sitting beside his once friend, his hands braced behind him as he studied the bustling excitement of the capitol. Ninja swooping up and about, excited giggles of the civilians witnessing the spectacular feats, the Samurai engaged in heated debates and friendly smiles.

"You wanted to see me…Senju." Madara wasn't particularly friendly, opening black eyes as he stared at nothing, the sound of cut bamboo lifting in the small pond in the garden, water a soothing trickle.

"You've changed…" Hashirama began, eyes trained on the twinkling stars above them.

"Our perhaps…I had never known you to begin with."

Silence reigned for moment before Madara finally spared Hashirama a glance.

"You're building your peace…you must be proud." There wasn't much in Madara's voice, no inclination of his thoughts or how he felt.

"It was our peace once you know…you could-"

"Your peace would not see the Uchiha live past their hatred, would not see them heal. Forever looked upon with bitter eyes for actions that the _hurt party_ dealt themselves for the will of their clan." Madara interrupted fiercely, is hands clenched.

"You can't believe that! The Senju would understand! We would-"

"You mean _you_ would understand Hashirama! You can't be so blind!" Madara shouted, silencing his once friend who looked on in shock. Madara scowled before looking away, glaring out at the capitol.

"Tou-san…?" A soft voice called hesitantly, both me turning to see little Kaito peering out unsurely from the open shoji doors. Hashirama's eyes widened at the genuine smile that crossed Madara's face for a second, the man opening his arms, the little boy clumsily curling up against his father at the go ahead.

"It doesn't matter at any rate, the Uchiha's place is in the capitol, here they have healed, can find joy again…won't fall to the curse of hatred."

"Here…we are free, and are loved. Here the war drums still beat in my ear, but…he, _he_ keeps me sane." Madara spoke almost softly, carding his hand through Kaito's hair. Hashirama looked at the sight conflicted, before a smile bloomed on his face falling upon the dewy grass, the light of the moon in his face.

"Is this our truce Madara? Is this our peace?"

Madara said nothing looking up to see Harry in front of a large window, fighting to close the thin drapes, before huffing and leaving it be. He wondered…would Harry be open to him again tonight, his plan foiled by his own clan's man. He couldn't help but scowl at the thought, standing with Kaito curled in his arms, large black eyes droopy.

Five years celibate…it was about time his wife gave in, and maybe give him another son…our daughter, he wasn't particularly picky.

"You can see yourself out Senju, I have had enough of your presence." Madara muttered almost mulishly, before leaving the broadly smiling man to his thoughts.

Hashiram couldn't help the strange feeling of peace that so suddenly settled on his shoulders.

So this was the reign of fire…

Konohagakure would be built, and he would see peace reign, but the Uchiha would step not a foot into its arms. They were the fire of the capitol, their leader the Daimyo's shadow…they were content in the peace their precious leader secured for them.

They didn't need Konoha…

It was strange…

But in a sense…

He was ok with it...this new dream.


End file.
